Blood and Daggers
by linkinparkfan9799
Summary: After Elizabeth Swann has three children: Beckett, James, and Elizabeth, they thought they would be at peace, but when the chest brings along powers the kids never thought of, they are dragged into an adventure of pirates, ghosts, blood, and rum.
1. Pirate Blood: That 'Odd' Family

_No rights to Pirates of the Caribbean. This is based after the fourth movie, in a way._

_Part 1 point: Elisabeth Swann has two daughters and a son, but they don't know they're dad is Will Turner. They have a tavern and that's when Beckett discovers the chest and old friends come along after trouble rises. They start traveling and Beck discovers the captain of the 'Mysterious Ghost Ship', 'Mystical Raider.'_

**Part 1: Pirate Blood**

_**Act 1: That 'Odd' Family**_

"LIAR!" they screamed, raising their old mugs and staring at the numbers the die presented. James groaned and slammed his cup down next to his pile of die, picking through his bag for the six silver pieces he now owned one of his younger sisters, Beckett Turner.

Beckett smiled in victory and gently tossed her mug into the air, catching it with one sand-colored hand. Her nails were short and nub, the dirt obvious when lining the cursed things. Her molten brown eyes twinkled with greed as the silver dropped into her filthy palms, her long, mud brown hair ruffling as she stood, dancing the jig in a small circle in the 'Duchess Tavern'. Her lavender bandana was tucked underneath her slanted, black feathered hat. Her small lavender shirt was short, puffy sleeved, the fabric cotton. Long black pantaloons stretched the length of her legs, tucking themselves under mid-shin buckled black boots. Her weapon belt was slanted across her wait, the sword on one spot and several pistols in the other. A bag of daggers settled itself on her right hip and gunpowder was on the opposite hip. A second belt overlapped, the grenades hanging off and a third, decorative red sash under both and strait across the pantaloon line. She was ten, oh young she was, to be 5' in counting shells and to be born in Tortuga, the land of the drunken idiocy.

Elizabeth Turner, the youngest child, sat with her perfect chin-length bob of sandy hair, then brown, then sandy, and back to brown. Her brown eyes fluttered under the lids as she rechecked the die to make sure she was counting right. Maybe it was all the weight on the single weapon belt with a few simple daggers in loops, a sword, and a common two-shot pistol. Maybe it was the light maroon shirt with its long puffy sleeves. Maybe it was the silver knees boots, the hand-me-down skirt that touched the boots brim, or even the silver sash cutting perfectly across her forehead, the couple of beaded trinkets handing low from the top and front hair strands. Whatever it was, it was diminishing her chances of winning, but the 4' 10" eight-year-old wasn't willing to strip down naked for some idiotic game of deception.

James rapped on the table with irritation. How was his little sister always beating him? She could've been cheating, but yet again, what person on Tortuga _doesn't _cheat? His brown hair was shoulder length, but pulled into a small ponytail. His skin was like sand, the same to his sisters, and his head was clear of accessories, unlike the two young lasses. His brown vest was pulled over the beige, long and puffy sleeved shirt while his brown pantaloons were tight around the legs, the light brown ankle boots showing off a portion of his skin. Like the sisters he favored, he was concentrated on his next move, what would earn him back his month's worth of plunder he had already lost all to one sister: Beckett B. Turner. Standing up to his full height of 4' 11", he huffed. He asked his sisters if they wanted anything from the counter and they simply shook their heads, allowing him to walk off. The walking soon turned to pushing and shoving, and eventually threatening his way through for a special few. As always, the tavern was crowded and loud with screaming and hollering and cheers and bellows and cries and whoops and the music and the feet pounding on the floor as some jigged with rum bottles in hand. He eventually clawed his hands into the counter to meet with a woman, whose dirty blonde hair flowed to her mid-back, her brown eyes blinking down at him, her smooth skin a soft color like theirs, a few speckled freckles, a light maroon peasant dress with the short sleeves of Beckett's shirt and the tightness around the waist as the pantaloons were tight around James's legs. She leaned on a broom, which she was previously using to dust up behind the counter.

"What is it, James?" she asked in a soft, smooth voice that of the weathered rocks.

"Mum, may I have some rum?" James questioned for his reply, his voice small and that of the snow of the cold lands in the winter.

The woman, who we only know as 'Mum', sighed and settled the rickety old broom against the counter. Turning, see plucked a brown bottle that produced a thick _whish _with movement from the high self, rubbing off some scum with her left platform. She handed it to James and he pushed and tackled his way back to the table until he was face down on the floor next to it, panting and sweating. The two lasses laughed and poured the five dice into the olden cups, shaking them rough and slamming the rims hard on the wood. James collected his materials and did the very same. Once their bets were made, those bets of high ranking for overconfidence, they made loops and loops of guesses until Elizabeth chimed one word James had been hearing the whole game.

"LIAR!" she proclaimed, and all lifted their cups.

James chucked his at a sturdy wall, Elizabeth absolutely beaming with pride. Beckett shook Elizabeth's hand, but not with the right, but with her left.

Yes, Beckett was a left handed girl, a left handed girl with the unquenchable thirst to sail on the open seas. She couldn't explain it to you, but no pirate can quiet explain it. She knew that she was born with some tarnished blood, but then, in September 26, 1750, she never imagined that tarnished blood was none other than a pirate's blood. Then, three weeks and five days from her tenth birth date, she never knew, none of the Turner children knew. Elizabeth, the most clueless of the three, always was the right-handed innocent who also favored the seas overland. But her birthday that day, this was also a clueless day, and that fact being cruel not to reveal the blood origin. James always felt somewhat more powerful than the drunken lads that came and went, somewhat sober, and somewhat smarter, his thirst for the sea not as strong. His birthday of October 15, if he didn't learn the origin then, those few weeks away, then Mum had indeed been cruel to all three, unless she handled with a reason.

But even with that, all three spent their days playing 'Liar's Dice' and drinking limited amounts of rum before they went off to Bar Fighting like the professional drinkers. Most in Tortuga would've referred to them as 'that odd family', but they never minded, knowing they were completely insane in the start and minding their own fair-in business. Elizabeth stood and dashed up the creaking stairs to her room, being the tired little sprout she was. James collected the mugs and dice, re-entering the ravenous crowd of what should've been piranhas. Beckett, also known as Beck, sat there, her feet on the table, ankle crossed and arms behind her head. The loud crashing rang throughout the drunken crowd, and that's when a bar fight began. James was dragged into it, dice flying everywhere. Beckett had smirked at this, in which she decided to join into the 'fun'. She stole a drunken man's bottle and smashed it on top of his head, poking a man with the edges for his attention and once he turned, delivering a round-house kick to the lower jaw. The rest is lost in history as they say, but not what Mum did to solve it. A pistol shot echoed, and all the drunken scattered. Mum huffed and shoved her pistol away, returning to her dusting. Beckett, not among such drunken fools, just stood there, smirking at Mum, since she always favored a dark side in everyone. Beckett decided to go up as well, since Elizabeth never really slept unless her sister did. It followed along the lines of 'Monkey see, Monkey do', but it was really 'Younger sister see, Younger sister copy to be just like her elder'. She shoved past the door and saw the little lass curled up in a little blanket ball. She rolled her eyes and slid into the middle bed, shutting her eyes.

Mum came in later, maybe two hours, with James and tucked him to rest, since she was one for her children. She kissed each and everyone's foreheads and quietly shut the door. As the cool moonlight who favored Beckett's bed washed over Beck herself, she smiled with peace, oblivious to the events that tomorrow would bring. That tomorrow, that tomorrow she so longed every night, would be the change of this once bored trio of children. Tomorrow, would be the dead end of sanity and confusion.


	2. Pirate Blood: That Beating Chest

_Hey, well, um…hey? No, that won't work! Um…OH JUST READ THE STORY BEFORE I PULL A BLONDE JOKE!_

**Part 1: Pirate Blood**

_**Act 2: That Beating Chest**_

You could say that Beck was strolling, snooping, or even sniffing at the air, but no matter what, she was moving from one place to another, step after the other. James was snoring away in his bed at the far left, Elizabeth snoozing in hers at the far right. Beck tip-toed across the wooden floors, careful to avoid any sound that might wake up that one woman we know as 'Mum' from Act 1. Beck didn't really know _why_she was snooping, she just knew she was, and for anything to interest her at 3:00A.M would have been a miracle, not saying she didn't find anything. This is the tomorrow of the yesterday, that day when all sanity ended and confusion erased, all replaced with A) rum B) blood C) violence and D) rum. Rum, rum, rum, that's all you could trace in the tavern's thoughts, well, unless if you took a closer look at the Turner trio, in which you would find the occasional 'Who's Father' question. Beck stopped in front of a cob-web door, the hinges creaking pieces of metal with two half off and the top missing entirely. The last hinge plopped to the ground before her eyes, spiders creeping from the hunk of rust and crawling up the wall. Beck raised a brow. Mum spent her days dusty the place, yet there were spiders there? In what was probably the cleanest tavern in Tortuga; spiders? No! Beck shook her brown ponytail lightly and pushed past the webs, the tangles of 'nature's silk' dropping to the floor noiselessly. The room was dark, the windows covered completely by maroon curtains. The floorboards were worn away, the only pieces of furniture in the room a table, a portrait of a man with brown hair matching James's length, his eyes just as brow and his skin just as fair. His stubble was accompanied with a miniscule mustache above his lips, giving him the appearance of a swordsman. Beck cocked her head to a certain extent and took one step towards it, before she heard _it_.

Yes, this was it. This was what the tomorrow of that yesterday was meant for, what it brought to the world of a youngster, though she'd argue that. This, this was the beating of _two __hearts_. Both were in the dark chest, the metal releasing a deep green color. A heart shape was around the keyhole, the actual key missing from view. What was an old chest like that doing alone in a room of cobwebs, rusted hinges, and spiders? She wanted to take it and show it to James, to get some clarification on what _it _was, if it _was_ an 'it'. She scratched the back of her head, confused on if to do the right thing here and leave it. She smirked and shook her head. _Nah! _She started to walk for it, but the room was now pitch, meaning the light behind the curtains was sealed off. She raised her brow and dared to walk for the curtain, shifting it ever so slightly…

Elizabeth rubbed her little eyes as they blinking in a cloudy morning. She yawned with a wide, uncovered mouth, her little stubby arms preoccupied with stretching up. The middle bed was messy and unoccupied, like it usually was when Beck first awoke, in which Mum would have to remind her for three straight times until Beck grew annoyed and did the stupid task before she grew an aneurism. Elizabeth shook her light blankets off, pushing herself off the edge and landing with a stout thump on the ground. She wobbled for the door, unaware of the events of later.

Beck was running, rubbing her eyes and colliding with something rather small. She wasn't dreaming she knew that much, but everything else went out the window, whether that's literal or not you'd have to ask her yourself mate, but she was frightened quite mind you. She landed on her rump, her panic over-seizing her and allowing her to be numb of all pain. She shook her head, wanting the vial image to release hold of her common sense and dignity, but only ended up with being met with two big brown eyes. Elizabeth was in front of her, blinking like there had been no collision of sorts, just the arrival of Beckett B. Turner, the daughter of a tavern holder and who knows who.

"Sister," Elizabeth whispered, "what're ye don' in a place like the halls at the hour?"

Beck sighed as she heard the squeaking English accent and stared up, all fear and panic immigrating to her pupils and the dark orbs alone. "I'm on the run from some window maniac. Anything else ye be waning' to know?"

Elizabeth blinked, smarter than your average eight-year-old. "What might this window maniac be, Becky?"

"A vial creature," Beck shuddered, that being bad for one who was never frightened. "It had yellow teeth hanging on their gums, skin as tan as the sun itself! That's not the scary part, though, may I warn ye! Lodged into the throat was a ship plank, several nails, and a woman's rum bottle, which I din' find _that_disturbing…but eh, what can e do these days with a ten-year-old? The eyes were crow pecked* and sockets, dry blood and rusted glass of iron**!"

*Crow pecked-looking as if eaten by birds viciously

**Glass of iron- blackened rough glass that often produces dirt and scum

Elizabeth shuddered greatly and the sound of shattering glass came from afar, but Beck's gasp dragged her to the belief she was doing more than expected; reading and drinking her 'hidden' stash o' rum. "Becky, what be the bearings of the situation?"

"Bad!" Beck gasped, hurrying up. "The chest is in danger!"

"The wha-"

"No time to explain, dear sis o' this tavern!" Beck dragged her behind for the cobweb room, "but there's a chest that beats, that beating chest important in some way. Someone most likely broke into its rooming!"

Elizabeth nodded here and there twice before she slammed into what felt like a bull, what was a door frame. Beck rushed in and Elizabeth pried her face from the wall to find a yellow skinned man, matching the same description as Beckett had told (the eyes obviously exaggerated greatly). The red irises were actually blood below the brink, the pupils covered up and the corneas obviously drowned in thick crimson. Beck felt at her weapon belt with her left-hand, swinging out the brilliant sword and the yellow piece of sea barnacles mimicking her very actions. She met him with a low sweep, his reaction useless to his side. She wasn't the egotistical rodent who had the lust of blood no, she was the one who never underestimated and sought victory and no maiming on her behalf. Elizabeth ran out, stumbling into the trio's room and hopping onto the end of James's bed, kicking his calf with immense force a thirty-year-old much like Mum would possess. James jumped awake, Elizabeth tumbling off and James glaring down upon her.

"What be it, Eliza? Are you blind or Crow pecked?" he snapped with much fatigue, the after yawn just as bad as the one before the snap.

"Neither!" Elizabeth or Eliza whined. "There's a chest that beats, a man fighting Beck, cobwebs, spiders-"

"Whoa, wait," James blinked. "What's this about a man fighting Beck?"

Eliza explained her short experience rapidly. James hulled himself off of the sheet an' covers, grabbing his sword and running out, dragging Eliza quickly behind him.

Beck parried several times with Mc Parchment, or at least that's what she called it. He was much like a zombie, but not quite yet. The chest was beating not far, but on the ground. She hurled the cutlass into the air and caught the blade with careful precision, swinging the handle at the side of the parchment-like face and rushing to the chest, grabbing it with both handles and sheathing the cutlass before dashing out, pretty sure the beating instruments from within were not having the best of times. She soon met with a panting James, his glare too cold even for him.

"What is this…about Crow-pecked undead?" he spat as if it was all a nasty prank brought upon Eliza by Beck.

Beck huffed, confident she knew his problem. "What're you talking about? It was a Crow-pecked man! I be not a liar but a liar, is what you're saying right now, yes you be!"

James sighed, figuring she was probably _not _lying such and running down the stairs, Eliza grabbing the back of his vest with sight of Mum being dragged off. Mum gave them that look that screamed 'run', but Beck was never the one for obeying, and this would be one of those few times that James would excuse that fact. Beck shoved the chest into James's torso, catching the falling sword and charging forward, slashing what seemed like a sea head. Barnacle eyes narrowed on her, sea-encrusted cutlasses and blades drawn out to meet her. She gulped and eyed Mum, Mum nodding to her mental question and the trio, oh so thoughtfully, ran to any nearest window and leaped through. A few cuts bore themselves in placed undesired, especially young James, but it wasn't like he could do much about what glass caused. They all met at the side of the old tavern, dashing across the streets and weaving past the people of Tortuga. All of Tortuga heard the crackle of fire, but only a set of eight-year-old eyes dared to turn. Beck, knowing full well what it was without having to see it, turned her younger sister around and back to the running. Their home was gone now, but Beck prayed, for the first time in her ten-years of life, for anyone, and to be specific, her family, including the father she barely knew…then.


	3. Pirate Blood: That Shark Attack

**Part 1: Pirate Blood**

_**Act 3: That Shark Attack**_

"'URRY UP!" James cried as they neared the shores.

Eliza wasn't complying much of well due to the destruction of their tavern, their home. Beckett Bill Turner was forced to tug her roughly along due to the immense shock brought along to the eight-year-old. There were the dingy boats that always met along the shore and they all hopped in, James throwing that beating chest onto his poor sister Beck's lap, causing a 'OMPH' to ring about the sand and cobblestone not far away. James climbed out to shove the boat, a few pistol shots echoing throughout the trees and silver shots cutting through the air to crash into the water around them. Eliza (Elizabeth) snatched out the common two-shot and aimed for a barnacle head, striking in between the barnacle sockets with no result but an angry pile of sea throw-up. Beckett was protecting the chest from any harm, looking around as James hopped into the wooden savior and took up the oars, pushing out with all his might as Beckett searched for another pair. Eliza shot once more with the same results as the first and took up aim again, but with the forgotten fact that her pistol was only two-shot, it clicked. She gulped and tossed it back into the loop of her belt, snatching one three-shot from Beck and aiming.

"Ye keep missin', lass!" Beck spat, thinking the attempt was rather useless.

"I be not missin' them," Elizabeth turned. "I be striking them 'tween the sockets of the devil! They won't be taken down by rounds!"

"Then why you keep shooting?" James yelled, one confused brow up high.

Eliza froze and plopped the pistol back into her sister's belt. She turned back to see their dear mother hoisted off somewhere, giving them one last, tortured glance as if she caused it all. Several hours of rowing passed with the only feeling of guilt drowning each and every child, twelve or ten or eight. The cloudy sky crackled and snapped with the threats of thunder, but they did not row faster. James, like his lassie sisters, would've preferred to be taken to Davy Jones's Locker by the Kraken, if it was even alive that is. That one thought made him hand the oars to Beck and left him to ponder and ponder. Eliza, being the eight-year-old she was, sighed and took out a tiny rag doll 'Mum' made for Beck, passed down to Eliza. Yellow strands of straw was bent down to slightly resemble hair, a patched up dress of worn sky cloth and magenta patches with black thread maneuvering bout the edges was slipped over the course body of cotton. The skin was white as…well…cotton, to be honest, and the black button eyes had the very black thread weaving through the holes to connect them to the face with a simple smile threaded in.

"Ye know…" Eliza sighed, "Mum always said that this meant good fortune…"

"Well, that ain't happening now, is it?" Beckett snapped unusually to her sister dear. "Now, anyone have sum thin' to say other than useless luck charms?"

Eliza shrunk as James looked up to his pale sister. He knew well enough she was upset. "How 'bout we share tales of the sea? Mum always said to share the tales before going off."

Beck shrugged and set down the oars, crossing her arms covered with long white sleeves of the button down shirt. "Go 'head, Jamie."

James, nicknamed 'Jamie' often by Beck herself, stiffened and looked out into the gray waters. "There t' was tell of a new Flying Dutchman in the tavern," he informed. "Say that Jack Sparrow gave the heart of ole' Davy to a dying pirate."

They all glanced at the box, making Eliza's brain gears turning into an idea of blood. "Say…do you's think that the chest has the new one's heart?"

"What about the second beat?" Beck questioned. "Ain't nobody with two hearts, mate. Never happens."

"Aye," James sighed. "What if that be a second heart though?"

"Who'd be careless 'nough to cut out their heart and stuff it in the very chest as the Dutchman's?" Beck exclaimed. "Who ever would do that be a fool, I tell you that!"

The chest kept beating. Eliza felt at a trinket of a silver lead heart hanging from multiple kaki beads to find it warm as a real heart. "I have a theory."

"That'd be?" James and Beckett asked.

"Why would Mum call the tavern 'Duchess Tavern'? I mean, there has to be some second meaning."

James and Beckett exchanged looks and Beckett felt at the heart trinket out of pure curiosity. She jumped back, making the boat rock one extra. "Lord save my soul! The heart's all warm-like!"

"Can't be!" James scoffed. "Got to be the heat."

Rain poured down, steam radiating off the trinket. "Believe me now, Jamie?" Beckett snapped.

"Don' call me that!" James sighed. "And I suppose I have to…"

Eliza refused to pluck it off. "Can I share a tale or two?"

"Go righ' 'head," James held up a hand aimed at her.

"All righ'!" she smiled, bringing some happiness to the shameful crew. "I hear tell that Jack Sparrow face Blackbeard all alone!"

"Poppy cock!" Beckett snorted. "Nobody can face the ole' beard and live to tell thy tale!"

"You could," Eliza beamed.

Beckett shrugged. "Tha' be true, nough, but I have never set a foot on foreign land before in me life, and neither have ye."

"Hey, how 'bout a tale from you, Beck?" James challenged. "Or are you're ears cupped to the extent that you can't even hear yer own tone-deaf voice?"

"Ah shut it!" Beckett leaned in with her elbows on her spread out knees. "Come closer if ye want to hear 'bout a fallen angel's boat." They leaned. "Now, there be talk of a ghost ship run by said fallen angel. She hunts eagles for sports and makes dagger handles out of their bones, the blades out of one eagle claw," she curved a finger to represent a claw. "The say out there is that she uses human head skulls as the basis of her cannon balls, so they go right through the deck of the ship never to be found after."

Elizabeth shivered. "She sound mean."

Beckett nodded. "Aye. Say she's worse then Blackbeard, they do!"

James held his chin with a left hand. "Then why have I never heard this tale?"

"Why haven't I heard of a new Flying Dutchman?" Beckett snapped.

"I haven't heard either," Elizabeth squeaked.

"You're eight!" they reminded her.

The dingy rocked and the rain beat down harder. Cackles of thunder eventually caused Elizabeth duck under Beckett's bench. James took up the oars and started rowing once again. Beck was pondering on each tale. The only one that sounded close to reality was James's, but she wouldn't admit that. The dingy lurched with an unexpected force, so James stopped rowing and waiting for the lurching to stop. Beckett whipped out her sword with a SLING and all went still save the rain. Elizabeth crept out of the bench and opened her mouth to speak, but huge bloody jaws chomped down on the front of the boat right behind James, making Beckett lurch forward to stab a vicious tiger shark in the eye. It flailed it's head, swinging the sword out of her hand and smashing it against the side, making James trip out into the freezing gray waters. Elizabeth swung an oar and it chomped on the head of it, so Beckett retched the stick out of Elizabeth's hands and jabbed it down into the beady eye, blood dripping down the face and squirting up the wood. It turned, the tail slapping the boat hard enough to make it circle about and knock both Turner girls out. Elizabeth flailed to stay above the surface as James grabbed a few planks as support. Beckett was under the cold waters, the shark charging with it's jaws open wide. She sent a kick to the temple and swung out her knife, gripping to the dorsal fin and the shark surfacing, Beck fighting to slit the throat. It was not easy.

One thing, she was on its right, so, being left-handed, she had to reach over to try and slit it, but reaching over the back and then to the other side was not simple while trying to keep gripping the dorsal fin for dear life. James and Elizabeth couldn't be of aid since the shark was sprinting around in mad, uncalculated circles thankfully in the same region. It jerked and Beckett was sent plunging down into the Photic Zone. The ice water numbed Beckett's skin, but she couldn't do much. She plunged the knife in the shark's back to result in its jerk that enabled her to slit the throat, blood swarming the frosty waters and the shark to still itself. Beckett surfaced and swam for her kin. She grabbed a board James offered and they sat upon them, legs in the water. It wasn't good conditions, since now, they had no hope of finding any help unless someone came, and they didn't doubt sharks would avoid them.


	4. Pirate Blood: That Fallen Angel

_May I remind you that this is the 1700's (not present, but in the story), so OF COURSE the grammar sucks! The narration is just to meet up with it._

**Part 1: Pirate Blood**

_**Act 4: That Fallen Angel**_

**September 30, 1750**

**Beckett Bill Turner**

**Everything's cold, frigid. Our legs are all numb and we've never spoke a word ever since two days ago when a shark attack was brought upon us. We've only been drifting, and yet, no help comes. Has God abandoned us? What tarnished blood has made us an exile to our Father's ways? I pray upon the cross every night now, yet no help will come to help. Maybe we've lived too long in his views? Maybe…just maybe…we're destined to die upon the ages of twelve, ten, and eight, the middle being me, the former being James, and the latter being Elizabeth, all of us Turners without a known father save our Lord and a kidnapped Mum, most likely now dead.**

Beckett wrote all that into a tiny leather-bound book with empty yellow pages. That was her first entry, since it was only a gift from her tenth birthday. The book was now damp and writing in her own blood was making her feel rather sick in the stomach. James managed to tie the planks together so they would drift together without any more family separation. They probably lost both parents; they needed not to loose one another. It has, according to Beckett's Journal, been two days since the incident, the two days in the middle lost to us all. The weather did not improve, only worsen. Elizabeth shivered 90% of the days and James was only staring off into gray, lifeless waters. Beck, for one, was entertaining herself with tapping, the only noise aside the _whish-whish _of the seas.

"E-E-E-E-E-E-Eh…" Elizabeth's teeth chattered violently. "A-A-A-A-A-Anyo-o-o-o-o-o-o-anyone k-k-k-k-know w-w-w-w-h-h-h-h-when we's g-g-g-g-g-g-gett-t-t-t-t-t-getting ANYWHERE?"

James wouldn't answer, so Beckett took up her responsibilities as an elder. "Not frankly, lass," she sighed. She looked around the open waters to nothing but thick fog up ahead. The rain beat harder as if it was trying to end them from unknown tortures, but Beckett preferred to die in an interesting matter, not a dull way such as disease. She took her hands into the water and peddled forward, neither of her kin contributing. The frost nipped at her nerves, but her strong heart kept beating, therefore they were forced onward to the unknown. Whispers of junk spread along the water's surface, making James tense and look up from his nothingness. A moist hand with long nails gripped the front of James's board, making Elizabeth whip out of her teeth-chattering and snatch out Beckett's pistol, shooting at the foreign hand. The hand retreated and a woman's head rose up, wide eyes looking innocent.

"Peace!" she pleaded. "I only come to help."

Beckett was astounded. Of course, never did she hear a mermaid in her life before, just heard the tales of the vicious beings. She could make fair bets though and decided to also draw, but not fire. "What are you?"

"A mermaid," she informed with a weary sigh. "Though my kin has had many rumors spread about, I wish to help."

You, mate, the one reading this very minute, think about it. These children just had their mother taken, two days of freezing waters, yet they live. Do you think they accepted this help? No, they didn't. They didn't trust much mysterious beings of the sea even on the shores. After that shark attack, why would they dare trust thy vicious mermaid? Any reasonable explanation for that, which is rare beyond comprehension to ye landlubbers, did never cross their youthful minds and therefore, Beckett took it upon herself to fire, and struck the head with a burning rusted shot. Shrieks were echoing the gray waters, the rain beating even harder now. Heads of fangs and narrowed, blood lustful eyes bobbed in and out of the water, shimmering scale tails of a fish trailing after them. James stood aboard his plank, thankful balance was always favoring him, and his cutlass flew out with the grip of his hand. He swung at the first head, slicing through the skin and one single eye puncturing. Beckett followed this example, but her choice was two three-shots, Elizabeth with one three-shot borrowed from her sisters belt, then a two-shot, and a broadsword she so grabbed off the grounds of Tortuga one full moon.

While swords sliced and chopped, guns fired and echoed, but one thing to be the unexpected was a cannon ball shot ringing from the distance. The three froze to look, but looked too late they did, since the water around them rose up with a massive explosion and the water was flooding with mermaid blood. Beckett grasped Elizabeth's tiny wrist and James grabbed the backs of their shirts, all three plunging into the icy waters. The blood created a deadly tint to the waters and they caught sight of a mermaid not far. James took out his sword, but a grown man's hand gripped the handle and he jerked back to see a holy man, one with shoulder sand hair and eyes he couldn't quite distinguish with the blue water crushing down upon him and his kin. This holy man was certainly pale for a tan person, a long white shirt sewn up and black pantaloons stuffed into proper black mid-boots covering his body. James also spotted a silver cross around his neck, and Beckett, as she turned, did as well. This was their only reason at the time to trust him.

Elizabeth was staring at the mermaid ahead, long dark brown hair and kind brown eyes. The whipping scale tail of a fish was beating hard as if she needed to reach the three, four counting the man. Since she was only eight at the time, she instantly trusted the kindness found in the eyes. She turned a bit to find the wooden haul of a ship heading their way, making Elizabeth jerk out of her sister's grasp and swim for it. Beckett couldn't call her back, since they were underwater, and Elizabeth was only sinking. A body pierced the water's surface and grabbed Elizabeth's wrist before she could sink any farther. The holy man and the mermaid lead the children towards the ship and James gripped a ladder, hauling his body, still gripping the back of Beckett's shirt, up.

"OI!" Beckett flailed her arms, sounding quite choked up. "BACK OF THE SHIRT, MATE! THAT'S THE BACK OF THE SHIRT!"

"And?" James smirked.

"WHY YOU!" Beckett tried her best to punch him without causing their fall, but they slipped one and James scowled.

"Careful! You're going to make us fall into the waters 'gain!"

"And? If I does die, you die along!"

"SPEAK ENGLISH!"

"I AM YOU YELLOW-BELLIED-"

"Eh!" Elizabeth called to her quarreling elders. "Must you argue?"

"YES!" they snapped together.

A hand wrapped its fingers around James's wrist, therefore surprising the poor lad, and jerked him up onto a wooden deck with his sister. They both turned to a woman, maybe as young as twenty-eight, with long light brown hair wound into a braid at the back clipped with a detailed forest oval with slight rust. She was the palest thing they had set eyes on, long bony fingers matching well with the skinny and tall posture that was decorated with a dingy red top with rolled up sleeves that went to the elbow and a few buttons at the top, patchwork pants with only two light patches and the stormy sky fabric seeming rather course, much like Elizabeth's doll, and mid-shin brown buckle boots. No tattoos were found, nothing added else. The brown eyes blinked with slight curiosity and recognition, but they never saw a woman as such in their lives!

"Oi," she addressed, "who are you three lads?"

"I'm Elizabeth!" Elizabeth piped up much to her elders annoyance. "The girls my elder sis, Beck, and the boy's me elder brother, Jamie!"

"JAMES!" James grew red in the face.

The woman chuckled, hands on hips. "Well, I must say you get along better than Leo and Mat."

"Who?" Beckett rose a brow.

"Me older brothers," she shrugged. "Oh pardon me 'orrible manners! I'm Angel Daggereagle."

James raised a brow. "Dagger Eagle?"

"No mate, Dagger and Eagle go together to make one name."

Beckett looked around and noticed the teal sails, slightly ripped, and the daggers painted on. She gasped. "This is the Mystical Raider!" Elizabeth and James stared at her. "THAT GHOST SHIP!"

The three scooted away from Angel and she laughed softly. "Oh you've been hearing them ole' tales, haven't ye? Ney, I be not a fallen angel, but born a devil of a saint. So, what brings you here in these murky waters?"

The holy man climbed aboard, the mermaid swimming next to the ship. "I'm sorry to intrude, but did you say you were Angel Daggereagle?" She nodded. "Why, aren't you one of England's most wanted?"

Angel nodded. "Aye, tha' be true 'nuff. Now, you three have last names or am I to assume ye orphans?"

"Turner," James informed, seeing it pointless to lie in front of a holy man. "What of it?"

Angel blinked and sighed, shaking her head. "Oh dear…and I thought I was cursed…"

She walked up some stairs of an apparent War Galleon and Beckett followed bravely, Elizabeth clutching to the back of James's shirt as he followed. "What do 'e mean by cursed, missy?" Beckett spat with much hatred. "We be not cursed the slight-"

"Now look here," Angel turned, warning painting over her once gentle tone. "Turner be the name of the newest Flying Dutchman, therefore, ye be cursed!"

James gasped and Beckett blinked. Elizabeth walked up next to Beckett, clutching her soaked doll with the straw threatening to fall out. "'Cuse me, Miss Angel lady?"

Angel turned to her. "What?"

"Ain't names repeated?"

Angel nodded. "This be clear though. You be's wearing the Silver Heart of the Pirate King."

James stepped up, the holy man long gone with the mermaid. "Look here! We're not pirates!"

"Now YOU look here," Angel leaned against the wheel, her elbow crook between two spokes and the forearm drooping forward limply. "If you ain't pirates, how'd you last even a _second _in these waters? How'd you live fighting off at least ten mermaids?"

Beckett put the pieces together silently in her head. "You shot that cannon?"

"Aye, I did, and this ship be empty so that was all I could manage," Angel sighed, her light brown orbs shutting. "Now, you obviously know nothing about ye being pirates, huh?" They shook their heads and even with closed eyes Angel knew this. "Well, ye mother be the Pirate King, Elizabeth Swann, who married William Turner." The children sat down, now trusting her since 'Mum's name, as we now know, is Elizabeth Swann. "They married in a Pirate War a little more of a decade back, what landlubbers call 'Pirate War of Calypso' and what we call 'Pirate War of the Dutchman's Fall'. Davy Jones was the main opponent, an old company by the name of East India Trading Company or Co. the second threat. There's this pirate group called the Brethren Court, in which there are Nine Pirate Lords. The present ones be Elizabeth Swann, the Pirate King and the Pirate Lord of the South China Sea, Ammand, the Pirate Lord of the Black Sea, Hector Barbossa, the Pirate Lord of the Caspian Sea, Chevalle, the Pirate Lord of the Mediterranean Sea, Ching, the Pirate Lord of the Pacific Ocean, Jocard, the Pirate Lord of the Atlantic Ocean, Eduardo Villanueva, the Pirate Lord of the Adriatic Sea, Sumbhajees Angria, the Pirate Lord of the Indian Ocean, and finally Jack Sparrow, the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean Sea."

"That's a lot," Elizabeth blurted, making James clamp a hand over her mouth.

Angel chuckled once again, all warning gone. "Yes, well, there is only nine, and that's the Fourth Brethren Court for ye. I couldn't possibly tell you about the former history and all, that's too much explanation for me poor throat."

"Your poor throat?" Beckett snapped. "We've been under icy waters and our throats not be poor!"

Angel nodded. "Yes, but you have the chest, right?"

They looked around. Where was the chest? Suddenly James stood and walked over to the side, looking out and seeing the chest floating out there. "Over there!"

Angel gasped and jumped deep into the gray waters, later popping out and pushing the chest to the boat. "Fools! You don't leave a man's heart floating in mid-ocean!"

"You don't cut it out and put it in a chest either," Beckett muttered.

Elizabeth hauled up the chest and wobbled back into a barrel, the chest dropping on her lap and forcing her to sit. Angel stood back up on the deck and felt at the silver heart trinket in Elizabeth's hair with nails similar to Beckett's. "Hmm, it be warm. That ought to mean that William Turner's coming."

"What?" James asked.

"The heart is cursed to symbolize the coming of the Flying Dutchman," Angel informed. She pointed to the chest. "Why there be two hearts? There should be one alone!"

Each and everyone exchanged a look of sorts, but none came to an answer. Suddenly, a light grew from the lock and the lid flew into Elizabeth's chest, revealing inside, one barnacle encrusted heart and one human heart, the former blue and black.


	5. Gypsy Daggers: That Old Rumor

_Part 2 Point: Davy Jones is alive! Beckett, James, and Elizabeth all now know their father is the newest flying Dutchman and are now aboard the Mystical Raider run by Angel Daggereagle. One problem: Who revived Davy Jones? How is Elizabeth Swann coming along?_

**Part 2: Gypsy Daggers**

_**Act 1: That Old Rumor**_

Elizabeth Swann's head swirled with nausea. She spat out some clotted blood and glared up at the dark night above her. The green ripped sails were barnacled and every moment was spent with either cursing Davy Jones, one she swore upon the bones of her father to be dead, or thinking about her children and husband. _Those three better not have gotten themselves into trouble…_she thought at one moment. She felt the whip strike her back roughly. She winced and kept yanking up the cannon, Davy Jones himself walking around to observe the crew, old and new. Elizabeth started muttering under her breath and old prayer she taught her children. "Thy Father thust watch over his children, thy Mother thust watch over yours, while thy allies watch over you, so my Father, Mother, and allies, put up the sacred barrier of Elizabeth Swann's heart."

Meanwhile, Elizabeth or Eliza was running around the Mystical Raider with a cannon ball. "Angel! Where do you want me to put this?"

Angel was leaning against a spoke on the steering wheel with her right elbow, the left hand clutching the metal of a compass. "Oh down in the brig should be fine."

"Okay!" Eliza smiled, chucking it down the latch to the second level to a thick DING!

"OW!" Beckett screamed, coming up clutching her stomach. "You don't chuck cannon balls unless trying to kill someone Eliza!"

Eliza pulled her little innocent face. "Oopsie!"

James walked up onto the deck with his brown hair down to his shoulders and his new tan puffy sleeved shirt having rolled up sleeves and brown pantaloons and a brown button vest, knee black boots and his weapon belt slanted. He stared at his ten-year-old sister with her skull necklace, her slanted hat, her bandana, her violet top with elbow sleeves and a skull broach in the center of the neckline, her black pantaloons, her ankle boots, her two crossing belts, one a simple red sash the other a brown leather whip, and her weapon belt. "Stop goofing off ye two," he huffed, walking over to some ropes and making sure they were tugging-worthy. "We have open seas to cover."

"Aye, aye, first mate…" Beckett grumbled, walking next to Eliza to make sure the eight-year-old ne'er scar herself for life in literal sense.

Angel rolled her eyes and remembered her siblings…all twenty of them. As the waters grew grayer, the worse the storm got, and the more sickness spread abroad. All four being strong pirates, they kept at work like the cold and rain was nothing. James thought about the tales of his father and how he so killed Davy Jones. Beckett thought about the mysterious Angel Daggereagle and this new-found pirate blood. Eliza, with her child mind, thought about their mum, thinking she was merely hiding somewhere away from the barnacle encrusted scoundrels. Eventually Beckett saw a dark form of port and turned to Angel at the steering, staring straight at the island itself.

"You see it to, aye?" Beckett walked up the steps to the pirate herself.

Angel nodded with a victorious smile. "I have some plunder down below. T' isn't much, but eh, gives fair profit. Start bringing them up to deck so we can at least fetch decent grub."

Beckett nodded, smirking at the way Angel Daggereagle worked, and jumped off the rail, flipping onto the deck on the soles of her boots. "RIGH'! LISTEN UP CURS! UNLOAD THE BELOW DECKS OF PLUNDER!" she commanded.

"Since when did ye give orders, sis?" James leaned against the rail that lead to sea.

She walked up to him and aimed a dirty nail at the tip of his nose. "Jus' 'cause you's the elder, don't mean that I don't have the takings of a pirate First Mate."

"Aye," Angel pointed to Beckett. "Lass has a point there."

"Ne'er said anything 'bout age, just when she stared giving orders," James grumbled.

"Since she told me to," Beckett shrugged. "Lighten up, Jamie, things should brighten with the foundings of our parents."

He nodded with a slight smile. "I know ye to be right, Sis, but it's just the fact that you have an annoying tendency to go into the shark's mouth."

Eliza hobbled onto deck with two boxes pilled high, tipping and causing rolls of silk and picks of cotton to tumble. Beck plucked up some cotton and pricked a finger, blood dripping to the wood of the deck. "Drat," she muttered.

"Might not want to leave your blood out long," Angel slightly tilted the wheel. "Ole' Mai Jiskamo don't like that shade of red in ye."

"Jiskamo?" Eliza piped. "Ain't she…"

"One of them ghosts of Raven's Cove?" Angel finished. "Why yes, but she ain't a Rage, may I say that much."

"Rage?"

"Nasty ghosts who can't let it go," Angel brought the ship near port. "Color of blood. Right here," she jumped down off the rail similar to Beckett, "is Raven's Cove, now toss the boxes off the side when I get down, got it?"

The three nodded as Angel jumped off board and onto a port. The boxes landed carefully and James leaned against the rail, brow raised. "Why ye telling us this?"

"'Cause you's the Pirate Kings off-springs!" Angel pointed out. "Keeping sumfing from ye is like keeping from thy king, and I ain't a saint, so I need my sacred leads."

Eliza smiled and plucked a cross she found off her head. "Here!" she tossed it down. "Have a sacred!"

Angel caught it between two of her left fingers and took out some thread to tie it 'bout the neck. "Aye, thank ye!" Angel smiled.

Beckett and James and Eliza alike all well noticed Angel ne'er set hand on them the way usual pirates would have. What they didn't know was that Angel acted like that for reason in fact of religion. God was looking, so one smite upon an innocent child (her view) would fck her up good. A man counted up Angel's owned gold and she nodded as he dropped the pouch in her palm, the rest of the supposed amount missing due to needed repairs. Angel waved the three down and they walked into an old burnt tavern, several pirates and ghosts inhabiting the area. Angel led Beck, James, and Eliza with the silver trinket to the counter and tapped thrice before a ghost appeared in bartender attire, a stubble and baldness matching with the dead of the place.

"May I help 'e?" he sighed.

"Four bottles of rum," Angel plopped the amount on the wood. "Plus some bread if ye will."

He nodded and floated off, leaving them to sit and hear the rumors float about.

"I hear the Pirate King's dead."

"Can't be! The Dutchman hasn't made us all dead!"

Eliza nervously glanced at James, remembering only he knew where the chest was at the time. "You've seen Jiskamo?"

"Mai Jiskamo? Nah, only relatives see them ghosts of theirs."

The three turned to an Angel tapping her nub nails impatiently on the counter and froze once she finally caught their stares. "Aunt to me mum, Sarah Goldcart Daggereagle."

They nodded and turned back to face the kegs. "Daggereagles?"

"Aye, and the Goldcarts."

"Neh! I hear it was them Turners!"

At this the three children's ears pricked. "No, no, if she was, she'd be live as day."

The bartender returned and handed them a fair amount of bread and more rum than asked. He went away and Angel scooped it up. "Come on, kids, got to find us a ghost who knows of revival."


	6. Gypsy Daggers: That Ghost Generation

**Part 2: Gypsy Daggers**

_**Act 2: That Ghost Generation**_

"COME ON CURS!" the First-Mate of Davy Jones roared, whipping none other than Elizabeth.

She spat at his boots and he back-handed her across the face, but her head only moved. Men started to notice the beating and Elizabeth was emotionless.

In Raven's Cove, however, the dark caverns were indeed unsettling for young Eliza, clutching onto Beckett's left calf. Beckett had her thoughts, but she decided to leave them to that black pit of her mind. James looked about and bumped into Angel's back, stumbling a little and gulping at the reason Angel stopped so suddenly, Beckett now stopping cautiously behind James. A transparent, coffee skinned man with several scars on the face and back, fairly large muscles, a simple dingy tan top with short sleeves (that or they were too small for his large figure). He was fairly fed, save the fact he was a ghost, therefore ghosts can't feed, and his pantaloons managed to tuck into his mid-shin boots. A thin layer of brown hair was set on his scalp, but that was it.

"That is one mean looking ghost," James whispered.

"G' evening Basil," Angel waved a pale hand once.

"Who are those three," he asked (more like stated as shown), nodding his chin to the three children.

"Beck, James, and Elizabeth's the 'idle 'un."

'Basil' huffed and stepped out of the path of an ancient door clawed in several places and shot through. Angel walked past, the children close behind, and used slender fingers to open the door. A woman with sandy hair and glassy (transparent to) black eyes, a yellow glow and old maid's wear, bonnet be included, stood in front of a shattered glass, despite the fact she wouldn't be able to see lick of light in the first sense. She turned at the presence of noise and hissed. She aimed a grayish finger practically bone at Angel. "You…Come to see ye ole' woman, eh?"

"Not quite for chatter much," Angel sighed. "Turners, this is me Mum's mum, Petunia Goldcart. Oi Grand! Where's Great-Aunt?"

She huffed and cupped her left hand around the edges of her wide-wrinkled mouth, the right on her hip casual like. "MAI! ANGIE'S A-'ERE TO SEE YE!"

A ghost with the similar sand hair and a red sash over a maid's outfit quite the same comes out, black glassy eyes slightly more to the living perspective. She clapped her hands and spread her arms. "Angie! How's you've been?" she sighed, hugging Angel to a rather useless attempt.

"Fine n' living," Angel shrugged, her shoulders going through Mai's forearms. "Oi, you've done any means of resurrection?"

Petunia scoffed. Beckett growled menacingly. "Lis' 'ere, you ole' snoot," Beckett snapped. "You have no righ's to disrespect a pirate as such so!"

Petunia scoffed once more and hovered over, hands clutching a faded broom with splinters and out of line straw. "What's your righ' in speaking such way to-"

"She's a Turner," Basil enters.

Petunia stopped to blink, her back stiffening and her sullen face turning gradual-like to James. "You," she stated. "You James Turner?" James nodded politely, but not friendly-like at all. "Ever seen your Pa?"

"No ma'am," he sighed. "Now, we have more-"

"Ever know why?"

Eliza plopped off Beckett's calf to stare at the apparition with large eyes. "You know Papa?"

"Aye," Mai Jiskamo sighed, hovering behind a split-in-half counter. "Two years ago he stopped by after a Rage Ghost misfit up above. Quite a handsome man I must say. Often spends days working without a care but for family."

James turned to pale Beckett. "Eh, didn't you see a portrait of Pa?"

Beck shook out of her daze to nod. "Looks bit like ole' you."

Angel chuckled and nibbled on some left over bread. "All fine an' nice, but can we get to our matter at hand? Who resurrected ole' Barnacle-Jones?"

Mai and Petunia turned, Petunia returning to her scoffing and unnecessary sweeping. "Always the gypsy of the family, always the odd n' miss-'formed."

"I ain't miss-'formed and neither be my 'idle Angie," Mai stabbed a finger into Petunia's shoulder, it surprisingly not going through. "We just good at heart be's all."

"Good at heart?" James huffed. "You're pirates! How's you good of heart?"

Petunia motioned her hands to young twelve-of-age James. "See? The boy has smarts!"

"So does Angie!" Eliza defended.

"Angel," Beck and James leaned in to correct.

"So does Angel!" Eliza restates. "Now we want to know who put old shark heart with pappy-heart!"

"Exactly," Angel directed her finger tips to the little lass. "That's all we's come for is a bit o' information. The chest o' Will Turner's 'eart is pertaining to two hearts now. Who made that so?"

"I hear it was ole' Calypso," Petunia sighed.

"Ain't she an angel?" Eliza squeaked. "I mean that's what Becky always tells me."

"Beck," Beckett corrects her sister, "and yes, that's how it goes."

"Aye, now someone has me back on that," Angel smiles.

"Well, no matter," Mai claps her hands. "It was probably Hiasi."

"Hi…as-e?" James raised a brow.

"Japanese gypsy," Basil stated, making the three jump. Aye, he was the silent one.

"That name _is _familiar…" James muttered. "Must've went to the Dutchess."

"Oi! He did!" Beck slapped him up the head. "Ordered ten sake!"

"Why do we have sake?" Eliza blurted.

"Not important!" James and Beck snapped, facing each other.

"Hello?" Petunia waved a hand between their faces.

"Look!" James pointed at Beckett's face. "How do you expect me to remember ever' single one of Mum's orders?"

"Easy, WRITE THEM DOWN."

"I barely know the trait!"

"Well, ha! I know tha' and readin' by heart n' sou!"

"Good n' well," Angel crossed her arms, "but we're sort of busy here."

"Right," they piped up, turning to the two ghosts and one pirate.

"Now," Angel huffed, her arms dropping once more, "where is this Hiasi?"

"I've heard he snuck aboard the Black Pearl," Mai shrugged.

"Can't be, long sunk by Blackbeard," Petunia snapped.

"Signapore." Every face turned to young Eliza who played with a small sparrow trinket in her hair. "Hiasi told me he was going to Singapore. Said he'd arrive around this time."

"Signapore we shall go then," Angel sighed. "One thing…Anyone here heard of J. Sparrow?"

"Yes," the three children groaned. "We ain't daft."

"Good…cause I hear tell there's a fair chance he's there."

"And since when has any talk be true?" James pointed out. "You aren't a fallen angel with eagle daggers."

Angel smirked and held up Eagle claw handled daggers. "Might want to change that. Let's go before we loose our sights. Trip might take two weeks."

"He said he's stay for two months," Eliza smiles.

"Good, now we're getting somewhere," Angel nodded and she ran into the dark tunnels of the caverns with three Turner children close at hand.


	7. Gypsy Daggers: That Flying Dutchman

**Part 2: Gypsy Daggers**

_**Act 3: That Flying Dutchman**_

William Turner looked off the rail of the Flying Dutchman, noticing the waters were a bit..._greener_...than usual. Bootstap caught this and sighed. "Still regretting what you did two years ago, William?"

Will nodded. "I could've seen my own children," he chuckled sadly. "Instead I chose to take care of a pesty ghost."

"Who knows?" Bootstrap shrugged. "Could've moved to them and haunted their rears off."

Will smiled slightly. "Could be right." He looked up and saw what looked like sails. He squinted. "Eh, what's that?"

Bootstrap glanced and his eyes widened. "That's...that's the Mystical Raider!"

On said ship, Angel squinted through green mist. "Jeez...don't tells me Jolly Rog's out n' 'bout!"

"LIAR!"

James let out a loud curse when he saw the dice. Elizabeth giggled and Beckett shook her head, the black bandana twisting a knotch. "Ye _really _need to stop playing this James."

"I _WILL _win someday!" James stood, pointing an accusing finger at his sister. "I swear's it!"

"On the grave?" Elizabeth squeaked.

"Aye," James nodded. "On the grave."

Angel released a low whistle through her lips. "Migh' not be long 'for you _see _a grave, lad," she tapped a lone pointing finger on a wheel spoke. "Awful green mist migh' make us crash with another ship!"

Beckett looked around and spotted the figure of such, and...it was coming for _them._ She squinted and a burning sensation ran through her spine. "Uh..." she stood, the stool knocked to the wooden deck. "_Sooner!_"

Angel followed her wide eyes to the ship. She recognized it on mark. "Buggar!" she muttered, spinning the wheel like crazy _away _from it. "Hold on!"

Each child was knocked onto their hide as the ship took a sharp turn, the wind picking up. Elizabeth winced and felt at the silver-heart trinket. It was like the sun's surface! "Where's this wind coming from?" James yelled as he got on all fours, the wind picking up so much it was roaring.

"Don't know!" Beckett responded, standing. "DON'T WANNA FIND OUT!"

She ran to the ropes and placed a foot on the rail, gripping the thick mass and yanking herself up, scalling it at abnormal speed. She hopped into the crow's next and grabbed the musket on their. She lifted it to the proper position and squinted, her eyes adjusting to the foggy figures on the ship. "What d'ya see?" Elizabeth calls up.

"Can't-" Beckett froze once she saw the captain's face. "LORD!" she dropped the musket. "JAMES! ELIZABETH! IT'S-"

A cannon shot and oblitterated the mast under the nest, the said area, jerking forward and Beckett lurching off the edge, screaming as she fell into the cold green waters. "BECKETT!" James screamed, looking over the rail.

Elizabeth rushed to the lower decks, looking for the chest. She looked up and down and finally found it in the brig. She went for it until a body melted through the side of the ship. Yellow and wooden teeth were stuck in his mouth, seaweed clutching to moist, bluish skin. She grabbed a knife on her belt and rushed forward, grabbing the chest. He drew a sword and she blocked it with her knife. "JAMES! HELP!"

James rushed for the youngest sibling. Beckett stuggled in the water, surfacing and looking around worriedly. "OI! HELP!"

Angel let go of the wheel and leapt off the ship, crashing into the water and grabbing Beckett's wrist. She dragged her to the ladder and rushed her up, both landing on the deck to see figures emerging from the wooden boards. Angel and Beckett drew their swords. James came up with Elizabeth, both with the chest. "They're after this!" James called, motioning the chest.

"Well, we ain't lettin' them 'ave it!" Beckett cried as she charged and scewered the first undead man. "Who are ye's?"

"Flying Dutchman's crew!" Bootstrap (not known to the Turner children quite yet). "We came for the chest and this troublesome woman!" He pointed a nail at Angel.

"ME?" Angel scoffed, readying her cutlass. "I did _nothing!_ It was simple pay and I went for it!"

The children exchanged glances and finally faced Angel. "Eh?"

Angel huffed. "Old work. The _undead _unfortunately have difficulties LETTING THINGS GO!"

James growled and faced Bootstrap. "We don't care if you work for Davy Jones or not!"

Another laughed. "Davy Jones? We's work for William Turner!"

Elizabeth gasped and turned to Beckett, who glared at the undead. "Bec-"

"We don't care about _that _either's," she snarled. "You're _never _getting at Angel!"

Another figure emerged...this one William Turner himself. "Well, who are y_ou _to say that, may I inquire?"

Beckett thought a bit. "Beckett..."

"She's Beckett Swann," James snapped. "I'm James." He motioned to Elizabeth. "This is our sister Elizabeth."

The undead's eyes widenned and they started whispering. William raised a brow and turned to Angel. "What are _you _doing with these children anyways?"

She blinked. "They were in the water. I decided to be _nice_, seeing they were being fed off of by pesky mermaids."

"They's scary," Elizabeth shuddered. "Anyways, Beckett, isn't he-"

"Hush!" James and Beckett whispered.

William noticed the young eight-year-old. "You."

Elizabeth turned. "Aye?"

His eyes shimmered with recollection. "Who's your mum?"

"Elizabeth-"

Angel, James, and Beckett covered her mouth. "None of your business," Angel snapped. "Now, you's going to leave quietly, or by force?"

Bootstrap tapped Will's shoulder and leaned in, pointing to James. "Boy looks like you, Will."

"Yes, I noticed that," he whispered. "Elizabeth looks like, well, Elizabeth. Beckett..." They faced her. "A cross between."

"What the heck are you whispering about?" Beckett snapped. "Look, we's were sailing, someone SHOOTS AT ME!" She swung out a pistol and aimed it for Will. "I DON'T CARE WHO IN DAVY JONES'S LOCKER'S YOU ARE! I DO _NOT _GET SHOT AT AND LET THEM LIVE!"

"Beckett!" James fought to get the pistol down.

"Hey-" Elizabeth started.

"BACK OFF JAMES!" Beckett swung her elbow at his stomach, making him step back. "I AIN'T LETTING ANYONE GET AT ME!"

"HEY!" Elizabeth shrieked. "ARE WE GOING TO FIND WHO RAISED OLE' DAVY DCK, OR WE'S GOING TO FIGHT LIKE A BUNCH OF PUSSIES AND LET ELIZABETH SWANN TURNER DIE?"

It was silent, even the wind died down. "Elizabeth..." Angel blinked, lowering her sword.

Smoke was protruding from the trinket. "Now..." Elizabeth huffed. "I _know _we ain't getting off to a good start, but Mum is stuck on Flying Dutchman or Davy's Jones's ship." She faced Will. "Now, I'm not sure or not WHO you are, but can you just leave so we can go to Singapore, find a damn gypsy or who's it's, and save our mum?"

James shook his head. "Elizabeth, they're _pirates!_ They don't listen to reason!"

"So are we!" Beckett pointed out. "Are you _forgetting _that?

Angel stomped on the deck. "OI!" Everyone turned to her. "William, these are your children, James, Beckett, and Elizabeth Turner, alright?" William glanced at his children. "Davy Jones has ye wife. Now, let that little job go, and we can go to help her, understand?"

James's eyes widened. Elizabeth clutched Beckett's hand. Beckett turned to the sky to have a rain drop fall onto her nose. "Gonna rain," she sighed. "Now, are we at an agreement?" She held out her left hand to her father.

William smiled and shook it. "Alright." He took his hand back and smiled. "You know, you're much like Elizabeth."

"If Mum heard that," James smirked, "she'd be insulted."

"At least _I _can _win _at Liar's Dice," she chuckled.

"LET THAT GO!"

"Angel?" William faced the pirate in mention.

He didn't even have to speak to get his point across. "I get it," she huffed. "Welcome aboard the Mystical Raider," she walked past him, "_Mr. Turner._"

**Review~ Next act has Jack!**


	8. Gypsy Daggers: That Drunk Hiasi

**Part 2: Gypsy Daggers**

_**Act 4: That Drunk Hiasi**_

The waters were bumpy during the rest of the time it took to close the distance between them and Singapore. During the time, they had William caught up on everything and a rather rusty plan on how to find the gypsy. Angel had lowered all three children onto the docks, herself having to stay with William before he had something happen to him. "Ye sure, Angel?" Elizabeth slumped as James straightened her straw hat and the strap under her round chin. "What if someone kidnaps us?"

"I'm sure they won't _dare_ if ye show them that venomous side of yours," Angel chuckled, climbing back onto the ship. "Remember! Look at the poster!"

Beckett held the poster with the ink-drawn '**WANTED**' on it, the man having sleeked back hair and a goatee. His eyes were almond-shaped and his head was narrow, but small in a way. James took a deep breath and grabbed his sisters' hands, tugging them forward. As they ventured forward, all three noted the dark-gray skies and depressing atmosphere. The way of travel was mostly by canals or small paths of stone/dirt. Beck snatched her hand from James and walked behind the eight-year-old and the twelve-year-old. As they passed small buildings, Beckett's eyes were watering with the massive amount of dirt and heat filling them up.

"Where are we's goin'?" Elizabeth whined.

"To any local tavern they might 'ave, Eliza," James informed.

Beckett looked up at the sky for a brief second before being yanked into an alley, James and Elizabeth continuing forward without knowledge of her being yanked away. She blinked and her shoulders were being held by a tan-skinned man with beaded-brown hair wound up in small braids here and there. His eyes were brown and he had circles around his eyes. A brown, three-cornered hat was settled on his head and his outfit was rather 'this, that, and maybe this'. A long brown coat, a white shirt under a bluish vest, multiple belts, brown boots and brown pantaloons. He had multiple rings on different fingers and string wrapped around his right wrist.

He opened his mouth with straight teeth (some gold) to say something, the blast of rum-breath striking Beckett immediately, but shut it as soon as he got a good look at her face. "You're not the midget I was expecting," he stated, blinking.

"Midget?" Beckett growled.

He shook his head and waved his hands in front of his face. "Forget it. Err…Have we met?"

"I know you're Jack Sparrow," Beckett shrugged.

His eye twitched. "_Captain. _It's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow."

"Captains have ships," she smirked smugly.

"And crews," an aged man, maybe in his mid-forties, stumbled over, holding a rum-bottle in one hand and some paper in the other. His hair was black-gray and his clothes were mud-covered. He squinted at Beckett. "You look familiar…"

"Maybe she's from Port Royal or England," Jack leaned towards the man, his attempt at whispering an utter failure.

Beckett rolled her eyes and looked around to see a dirtied bottle of Scotch on a mossy box. She snatched it and seized the cork with her teeth, jerking her head back and the cork coming out with a _pop_, spiting it out to the side and taking a swing.

The doors of the local tavern were opened by James Turner himself. "Here we are, Eliza, Beck."

Elizabeth turned and tugged on James's shirt. "Jamie, Becky's invisible."

"What are y-Curse the Heavens! Beck!" James scanned the streets for their sister, but sighed. "We have to get this done. Just pray, okay?"

Elizabeth nodded and starting mumbling the prayer Elizabeth Swann had taught them. James spotted a table had the man they sought, so he started to walk over, dragging Elizabeth over as well. Hiasi spotted them and smirked. "Well, I figure I have some customers," he turned in his seat, gripping firmly onto the edge of the table. "What's you want? Dead mum you want revived?"

James shook his head and straightened up, face brave. "I actually want to know why you resurrected a particular pirate," he swallowed.

Hiasi chuckled. "Ask away. Not me fault if the bloke has confrontation with your pap."

James narrowed his eyes. "Why did you resurrect _Davy Jones?_"

Hiasi's smile dropped. He gulped and leaned in, eyes wide. "I'll tell you the truth here, lad. That wasn't me."

"Then who was it?" Elizabeth squeaked.

"Hush!" James shook her wrist.

"No clue," Hiasi shrugged. "Wouldn't want to bring him up though. I owe him too much and now he's going to be after my as."

James thought about it, biting his lip. _Seems rational, even from a pirate. Also, he's drunk, I can see that glassy look in his eyes. _"Okay," James finally said. "I believe you. Are you sure you have no clue?"

Hiasi was about to nod before he saw the trinket in Elizabeth's hair. "You're the Turner children…" he whispered. "Where's the other girl?"

"What?" Elizabeth raised a brow.

"You can't have lost that other girl!" Hiasi stood. "She's the only hope to drag Davy back to the grave!"

James's eyes widened and he laughed nervously. "W-Well…WE'RE TAKING UP LEAVE!" He ran out, Elizabeth stumbling after him. "BECK! BECK! GET OUT HERE YOU PAPER-SKULLED HANKTELO!"

Beckett was sitting on the box, drinking and staring at the two men with bored eyes. "Ever heard about Davy Jones?" Mr. Gibbs (as she had learned) asked. She nodded. "Ever heard of William Turner?"

She nodded once more, then Jack snapped his fingers. "That's why she's familiar! She looks like Will and Elizabeth!"

Gibbs squinted. "Oh yeah…"

"Well, they are me parents," Beckett stood.

Jack blinked. "What about the other two? Where are-"

"THERE YOU ARE!" James stomped into the alley, grabbing Beckett's elbow. "We have to get back to the ship!"

"Hello!" Elizabeth waved to Gibbs and Jack.

"What's going on?" Beckett hissed.

"We saw Hiasi. We got it all wrong! I think _we_ resurrected him!"

"That's preposterous!" Beckett jerked her elbow away. "What gives you that idea?-!"

"Hm, I don't know, maybe because you're somehow the only hope of sending him to the locker!"

Beckett blinked and Jack nodded. "That. Well, I know a few things about it meself," he said.

"And me," Gibbs nodded.

Elizabeth beamed as she got a new idea in her brain. "Why don't we take them to Angel's ship?"

Jack's eye twitched once again. "Angel?" he strained.

"Angel Daggereagle," James and Beckett sighed.

"Oh," he clapped his hands. "Well then, we'll come along!"

Beckett huffed and thunder crackled.

It had started to rain.


	9. Gypsy Daggers: That Crazy Hag

**Part 2: Gypsy Daggers**

_**Act 5: That Crazy Hag**_

William was on the deck of the _Mystical Raider_, staring up at the gray clouds as rain dumped down on his face. Angel was leaning against the wheel, gripping a spoke with one, pale hand. "Where are those children of yours?" Angel called through the roar of the rain.

"How should I know?" he turned from the sky to her, his eyes slightly narrowed. "In case if you've forgotten, I haven't even seen them _at all_!"

"And whose fault is that?" Angel challenged.

"The idiot who angered that rage ghost!" he growled. "That being _you!_"

"I was _drunk_, Dutchman!" Angel stood at her full height, the wheel turning as her hand was tugged to the left. "Besides, if it was anyone's fault, it was that stiff grandmother of mine!" She crossed her arms and looked off to the right. "Always been one to judge, stupid wench. Hated me mum for 'marrying a simple sailor'. Well, she regretted _that _when me Pa's Pa blew her up sky-high with twelve cannons, now didn't she!"

"I really don't want to hear it!" William snapped.

"Then why are ye complaining!" Angel grabbed the hilt of her sword.

William grabbed his and unsheathed it. "You do _not_ want to cross me in a sword duel, Daggereagle."

"Well, ye should know I'm one to test!" she charged forward, her sword clashing with his cutlass, causing a clashing of metal to ring through the roaring rain.

Elizabeth Swann shivered in the rain, clinging to the ropes she was forced to pull constantly. _Clop, Step, Clop, Step, Clop, Step. _She turned to see Davy Jones, the past Flying Dutchman himself. His slimy tentacles writhed and his crab claw snapped endlessly, the tentacle as his other hand curling up and straightening out. She swore by now the barnacles and seaweed on his torn coat and clothing were moving on their own, taunting her.

He caught her stare and smirked. "About to die, I see," he cackled. "Well, I will_ not_ let some pip-squeak pirates bring me down, nor you and your useless husband."

Elizabeth glared. "My children will avenge me if they knew I died. My children are strong, and were blessed by Calypso herself, so you have no chance!"

Davy Jones's eye twitched and he snapped a claw in front of her face, keeping it closed to represent a pointing hand (in this case claw). "Get to work." He wobbled off and Elizabeth kept yanking at the rope, her dirty hands and cut palms leaving dirty and blood on the binds.

**October 16, 1750**

**Beckett Bill Turner**

**About two weeks have passed since my last entry (the near-death experience). Here I be, next to **_**Captain**_** Jack Sparrow, Eliza, and Jamie, that and Mr. Gibbs, in the cold rain, mum taken, father not able to walk on land, and Angel Daggereagle as…whatever she be notorious for, as ever. God hath let us live through the sharks and mermaids, I just hope there's a good reason why.**

Beckett closed the leather-bound yellow pages and shrunk further in her little barrel she shared with James, who looked as uncomfortable as her. "Why does Eliza, Gibbs, and Jack get their own three barrels, but we have to squeeze together?" James grumbled.

"I didn't picture you a complainer," Beckett poked his ribs.

"Oh shut it," James flicked her arm.

Beckett sighed and the barrel started to bulge. The wood gave in and James and Beckett both rolled out into the wet mud of Singapore. Elizabeth peeked out of the barrel, the top of the barrel tilting to let her big, brown eyes show. "What's going on?" she squeaked.

"Beck broke the barrel," James stood, lifting the lid off Elizabeth's barrel and dragging her out. "Come on."

Beckett kicked Mr. Gibbs and Jack's barrels. "Get out here!"

Captain Jack popped his head out, the lid falling to the ground. "Huh?" he looked around.

"We're going," James groaned.

James and Beckett grabbed one of Elizabeth's hand (one each) and dragged her forward, Jack and Mr. Gibbs following them. They saw residents rush into buildings and hide under leaves, but one woman was sitting at the side, holding out her hands. "Gold please!" she begged. "Please!"

Beckett looked over and exchanged a glance with each sibling. They all nodded and took out at least five gold-pieces each, walking over as Jack and Mr. Gibbs watched. "Here," Elizabeth smiled, setting her pieces in the woman's palm.

The woman narrowed her eyes at Elizabeth's kind face before she suddenly stood, making Elizabeth fall back in surprise. "YOU!" she whipped out rusted daggers. "You're the Turner children! You brought Davy Jones back!"

"And just like that I'm selfish," Beckett muttered.

"You weren't already?-!" James picked Elizabeth up as the woman started swinging her dagger. "RUN!"

Jack and Mr. Gibbs started running along with the three children. The daggers left the woman's hand as she simply dropped them and they flew at the children. "Oh come on! A GYPSY?-!" Mr. Gibbs roared. "Shows what Davy Jones brings!"

"I don't think it's Davy!" Elizabeth wobbled, Beckett yanking her wrist.

"Worst part is, I owe her money!" Jack kept running. "AHHHHH!"

"Oh _that's _gonna help!" Beckett and James scold.

"GET BACK HERE! YOU BROUGHT US THE END!"

On the _Mystical Raider,_ the two swords were still clashing, William hopping onto a rail and gripping a rope as he deflected Angel's blows. Angel swiped at his ankles and he jumped, but did not land correctly, so slipped so his hand burned against the binds when they slid. The bottom of his fist smacked against the wooden rail and Angel nearly stabbed the sword through his knuckles, but he yanked his torso up and sliced her arm. She winced and he took the chance to pull back onto the deck and go for her neck, but she ducked and swiped his ankles with her foot, making him crash into the deck. She stepped over him and held the sword over his face.

"Ready to give up?" Angel hissed.

"Even if you stab my head, you can't kill me!" William reminded. "I'm the Flying Dutch-"

"AHHH! SOMEONE GET THIS CRAZY OLE' COOT OFF OUR HIDES!"

Both adults snapped their heads towards the rail and scrambled (slipping on the wet deck) to see what the ruckus was about. They saw Beckett, James, Elizabeth, Mr. Gibbs, and Jack Sparrow himself running away from floating daggers and some old hag. "Well, this is surely more interesting than our little squabble," Angel blinked.

William rolled his eyes and grabbed one of her pistols, shooting towards the gypsy. It hit her leg and she fell, glaring at the ship. James helped Elizabeth climb up first and scaled the wood next, gripping the out-thrusting wood with cold fingers. "YOU FOOLS! YOU BROUGHT THE END!"

"Glad she doesn't recognize you Jack?" Mr. Gibbs asked.

"Quite yes, actually," Jack blinked, rushing to the side of the ship as well.

William yanks Elizabeth up, then James, then Beckett, leaving Jack and Mr. Gibbs to get up on their own. The three children were panting and holding their knees. Angel rushed to the wheel and waved her hand once, the sails coming down on her will. "What-MORE GYPSIES?-!" James groaned.

"I know a few tricks, but hold on!" Angel said as a sudden, favoring wind helped the ship blow off, Angel turning the wheel like mad.

Jack grabbed the rail and James and Beckett fell on their rears. Mr. Gibbs and William stumbled, but remained to have their footing. As Angel made sure they were away from shore, Elizabeth turned to Beckett. "Jamie was telling the truth," she said.

Beckett lightly kicked the top of Elizabeth's sandy, brown, sandy, and brown hair. "Oh shut it, Eliza."


	10. Magic Blood: That Unforgettable Day

**Part 3: Magic Blood**

_**Act 1: That Unforgettable Day**_

On the ship of Davy Jones's, only the roar of rain and creaking of the wood could be heard. Most were sleeping, but Elizabeth Swann was staring at the wood above her hammock. She couldn't take this anymore. Her knuckles were cut and stung with infection. Her head was thumping due to the roars of the First Mate ordering the crew around constantly. Her legs were nearly numb with all the running around she had done to get to this and that. Sweat drenched her body and had nearly completely soaked her clothing. Her face had dirt and grime all over it, much like the outlines of her nails. Her hair was tangled and messed-up and there were bags under her bloodshot eyes.

_Is this really how it's going to end? I always thought it would be of illness, old, Will holding my hand as I lie in bed with my grown-up children saying it's going to be alright. _She sighed and shut her dry eyes. _Yet again, should've seen this coming when I made that deal with Calypso. _The day was vivid in her mind.

She was at her Tavern in Tortuga. At first it was just a large house where her baby boy could be easily harmed. At the time, he was asleep, much to her surprise. _Never thought that little trouble-maker COULD sleep, _she thought, dragging a wooden bucket of water outside. The weather was murderous and her head was pounding with a headache caused from her 'little angel'. She looked up at the sky and couldn't help but remember when Calypso was freed. She wondered how the goddess was doing and continued with her work. Thunder rumbled in the distance and she looked up to gray clouds moving in fast. _Guess that answers that question…_

"**Does it?"** Elizabeth jumped at the sudden voice and looked around rapidly. There wasn't a soul near her. _That sounds oddly like…_**"You need to look up, woman."** Elizabeth looked up to the sky and squinted due to the still present sun. She held her arm over her eyes and saw a faint image of sorts. It was that of a woman, one she recognized.

"Calypso…" she whispered. "Why are you…here?"

"**Don't worry, you are right in a sense. I heard you 'ad a child, yes?"** Elizabeth nodded at the apparition, not sure if she was going insane or this was one of those things Calypso was just able to accomplish. **"Well, I've been searching for a way to go back and forth from being a human to…this…and I found that if I give a child some of my skills, then I would be able to do jus' that. Not as powerful, but it works."**

"And you came to me…why?" Elizabeth rose a brow.

"**Again, I 'eard you had a child. Would you let me do it?"**

Elizabeth thought about it and sighed. "As long as it doesn't hurt him."

Elizabeth ran inside and found James awake, crawling around. She sighed in somewhat defeat and plucked him up, walking carefully back out. She had expected heat, but just got cold rain. She noticed the rain was being absorbed through her son's skin, as well as her own. She let it continue as she pondered the possible outcomes of such. After what felt like forever, what was a couple of minutes, the apparition stood on the ground and the skin was visible once more. In a matter of moments, she saw Calypso in her flesh. "Ah, much betta'," Calypso smiled. She noted the rain on Elizabeth and the amount that should've been there. "…Oh dear."

"What?" Elizabeth asked, worried.

"Well, seems like you took some of the rain of my power to…" Calypso started to think. "Well…I don't know what would happen, but don't be surprised if anything out of the ordinary happens."

Elizabeth nodded and walked back into the tavern. After a few months, she could see that her stomach was growing, even though she swore she wasn't eating much. It wasn't long before she felt something kicking in her stomach. "Oh boy!" she cursed. "Don't tell me that rain made me pregnant!_?_!"

She went to a doctor and it turned out that it was so. She had a baby in her stomach. On August 31, she gave birth to a little girl. Calypso visited and noted it. "Uh-huh," she sighed. "So it did do something."

"Well that is sort of obvious," Elizabeth snapped, the two crying children in her arms. "Please don't tell me I'm getting another!"

Calypso thought and sighed. "It's highly likely. In fact, I'm not even sure what will happen at this point anymore."

Calypso went back to Cuba after a week as Elizabeth struggled with the care of her infants. About a year and three months later, she started to fatten up again. "Oh boy…" she slapped her face. "This better be the last because Beckett is a handful!"

"Mummy!" James, her boy, cried from the other room. "Beckett hit my head!"

She sighed and walked out. After giving birth to her third, she realized it was getting easier. Elizabeth, her third child (Elizabeth Jr., Elizabeth Swann sometimes referred her as) simply followed Beckett around and Beckett was mostly busy teaching her younger sister things and torturing her older brother. Calypso came by on Elizabeth's fourth birthday and gave her some trinkets, even a silver heart. "It is a cursed trinket," Calypso informed Elizabeth (mother) later. "It's connected to her powers and your husband."

Elizabeth's face saddened with the memory of her husband that she could only see once every ten years. "That's very kind of you, Calypso."

"Oh please, refer to me as Tia Dalma," she smiled.

Elizabeth is dragged out of her thoughts with a bump that sounds on the deck. She raises a brow and rolls out of the hammock to tip-toe up the barnacle-infested steps to the deck, seeing the First Mate stomping about. She also saw Davy Jones and ducked her head. "This is bad," the First Mate muttered.

Davy Jones looked furious and turned to the First Mate. "Remember, the Kraken is alive once more. Awaken it and kill Beckett Turner!"

Elizabeth gasped and crept back down, grabbing a lantern and rushing off to search for their way of awakening the Kraken, for their old method had been destroyed the day before with a careless crew mate that, well, didn't live long enough to apologize.


	11. Magic Blood: That Bad Feeling

**Part 3: Magic Blood**

_**Act 2: That Bad Feeling**_

Beckett, James, and Elizabeth Jr. all swapped the deck of the _Mystical Raider_ as they got much entertainment from the bickering of Captain Jack, Angel, and their father Will. Gibbs only snored on a barrel, so he was not of much fun. "It is, on no circumstances, _my_ fault you just _had _to deal with the ghost. One little ghost is nothin' compared to the trash you've left behind!" Angel snapped ferociously.

"THAT IS MY JOB," William stressed. "It is not my fault I can only go on land_ once every ten years!"_

"Actually…" Jack bit his lip.

Will gave Jack a challenging glare. "Oh yeah? Well you didn't _have_ to force me to stab the heart. You didn't _have _to grow a conscious, Jack!"

"So, in short, it is his entire fault?" Angel directed to Jack.

Jack scoffed, "Is not! I just saved myself from turning into…" He wiggled his fingers under his chin while his wrist was pressed up against it. Even Elizabeth understood this was supposed to represent tentacles.

William shook his hands above his head. "Never mind that! The point is, you did it Jack. I was thrown into this because of _you_."

"Oh, so you would've wanted to die more than see three new lives?" Jack snapped. "I'm sorry, but I'm a _pirate_ and I find that cold."

"But it's not that cold out," James chuckled.

Angel shook her head and pretended to sew her lips shut towards James. "Okay, I find that _cruel_ then," Jack corrected.

Beckett opened the leather bound pages once more and jotted down some quick notes.

**October 17, 1750**

**NOTES**

**-**_**Captain**_** Jack Sparrow loves to correct people (even himself)**

She shut it and glanced back at the three bickering adults. James and Elizabeth yawned, leaning against each other as their eyes began to droop. Beck saw that this fight wasn't going to let off any time soon, so she shoved both her siblings overboard and walked downstairs to leave the clean-up to the adults. She hopped onto a hammock and started to doodle in the pages of her journal. It went from starfish, to mermaids, even pirates with fangs in their mouths. Beckett didn't understand where that came from, but she quickly dismissed it when moist boots started to produce a '_squish, squash, squish' _pattern.

"Beckett…" James growled, holding one wet hand of Elizabeth Turner.

"Yes?" she glanced up blankly, the quill freezing in her hand.

Suddenly, her brother tackled her and they started to brawl, throwing punches and kicks, with the occasional eye poke. Elizabeth sat on the step and stared, her eyes wide and innocent. Angel and Will came down to talk to Beckett, but were tripped by the two rolling children trying to kill the other. The slam woke Mr. Gibbs up and shook Jack in his boots as he stared past the ship railing. Angel and Will fought each other to get up first, that rather amusing to Elizabeth, and tried to pry the bickering siblings apart.

On the _Flying Dutchman_, old edition, Elizabeth Swann hid in behind a rack of barnacle-infested rum bottles, taking one down at a time to search for any clues as to what would awake _the Kraken._ She had a few guesses, but she doubted 'WAKE UP' was right. Her finger tips were coated with slime, green crust from barnacles, and a fine amount of dust. She gave off a small sneeze, but covered her nose with her sleeve. She couldn't risk being caught.

Even if she did, she didn't want to think about the consequences. Never being able to see Will again, Elizabeth, James...Beckett…With each child she listed off, her frown deepened. She started to list off the benefits to make her feel somewhat better. She surprisingly found that there was more than there should be.

She could reunite with her father.

She could get away from Jack Sparrow.

She would no longer have to suffer.

She would not have to worry.

Her body raked with a shudder as she counted all possible benefits down. She went back to the down-side column and another shudder shook her. This was not helping her out the least bit. The hatch to the 'rum deck' opened with a _**'**__**khack'. **_Elizabeth Swann shrunk, fingers gripping the shelf behind the bottles and her eyes wide as she stared at the first mate. He stomped in, his lantern swinging left to right with light flashing across the room. He stopped abruptly and turned this way and that, glaring his beady shark eyes. The rows of shark teeth startled her enough to have to cover her mouth.

One scream and she would die. One scream, just one. Even a yelp would do the trick. She tried to stop breathing, but her fingers just shook as a result. A nail tapped a bottle as it shifted with vibrations, making her body run cold. The first mate stopped and turned to the shelf she was hiding behind.

_Stomp_

_Stomp_

_Stomp_

_Oh God, please no!_ Elizabeth thought pleadingly. Her eyes would not shut. Her lips kept a-trembling. Her fingers resumed quaking activities. The blood in her veins stopped pumping all together. Elizabeth's spine felt frigid, frozen even. It was as if her nerves had shot down and her blood had a heart attack of its very own. Cold sweat dripped from her forehead. The first mate, Marcus if you will, stopped in front of the shelf and sniffed. "…Blood," he stated. His sword swung out of the sheathe as he stabbed it through a gap in the shelves.

Back at the _Mystical Raider_, the fighting between the adults had been brewed up again; a mere sprout from the James/Beckett brawl. Elizabeth was snoring in Beckett's lap, sucking her dirtied thumb. James patted Elizabeth's hair and watched the fight with his mischievous sister. Clouds were forming above, menacing. "Boy, the weather hate' to stop, don't it?" he grumbled as he saw the green and gray colors clash.

"Aye," Beckett yawned. "Maybe it's 'cause the adults won't shut it?"

James shrugged, not actually knowing the answer. "IT! IS! NOT! MY! FAULT!" Jack roared. "AND IT'S _CAPTAIN_ JACK!"

Gibbs stumbled out of the lower decks and leaned against the rail, the barrels with the three children on top to his left. "And this is why you learn to be adults, youngings," Mr. Gibbs muttered, taking a swig from a sandy glass of rum.

_Rum sure never sets home in a clean bottle, does it? _Beckett traced back to the tavern days where all bottles of rum she had to deliver she found covered in some material that truthfully did not belong there. She just guessed it was lousy service from Elizabeth's sources, but then Beckett was getting a vague foreshadow that it was a little more than just that. She closed her eyes to be met with an apparition of sorts.

The room was dark, the only source of light a lantern splattered with blood. The boards were green instead of brown. Barnacles had homes on the floors, walls, between the cracks, anywhere they could go, they were. Everything was a bit foggy, blurred, and slurred to puddles of colors. There was a puddle of gray colors that she could guess was that of a hammerhead, but what perked her curiosity was the fact that it had two legs, no tail. _**"**__**No one's gonna stop the Kraken. Not even you, Miss-"**_

It was cut off as soon as Gibbs flicked her forehead. "Oye, what's the deal with ye'? Dozin' off already?"

Beckett blinked and shook her head rapidly, turning so she was looking in the direction of pure green clouds. "…I have a feeling Mum ain't living at the moment."

The air was filled with dreadful silence.


	12. Magic Blood: That Targeted Crew

**Part 3: Magic Blood**

_**Act 3: That Targeted Crew**_

The sounds of gears turning echoed throughout the _Flying Dutchman,_ old edition. Cracks of a whip tore through the air, disturbing the peace of the sea. Davy Jones stood in front of the ship's wheel, face stern and angered. Inside, he just wished for the heads of the three children who threatened his line of existence. "Let no joyful voice be heard!" he called out. The center of the wheel began to rise. "Let no man look up at the sky with hope!" The center rose even further. "And let this day be cursed by we who ready to wake…THE KRAKEN!" The center rose up to its max and slammed down, shaking the waters. Down in the depths of the sea, a sickly eye popped open. A humongous body was shaken by a quake in the waters; none other than Davy Jones summoning him. The Kraken pushed his body up with his lengthy tentacles and started to force himself against the waters to the _Mystical Raider_ with the targets of Beckett Bill Turner, James William Turner, and Elizabeth Turner.

Aboard the _Mystical Raider_, things were a tad bit more peaceful than that of _the Flying Dutchman._ Captain Angel Daggereagle steered the ship, Captain Jack Sparrow snored, Captain William Turner fastened the ropes, Mr. Gibbs drank his rum, Beckett polished the cannons, Elizabeth played with the stored fruit, and James attempted to read in the Captain's Quarters. Next to a rather polished cannon, Beckett kneeled on the ground, holding a moist, black rag. She stared at one of the cannonballs next to the weapon itself, her face dimly reflected. The molten brown eyes saw that her mud strands of hair were clumped and knotted, some held by dirt and dust and the like. Her face was hidden slightly, patches of dirt staining the sand-colored skin. The collar of the white shirt with puffed sleeves that flowed to the wrist was torn and the seam had popped out to make the ends start to unwind. Beckett sighed and raked her fingers through her hair. _Mum would scold me for looking so unkept, aye?_

With the wind in her face, Angel stared at the view in front of her. Jack was snoring on a barrel, a rum bottle clutched in hand. Will worked even as he sweat to fasten each rope on the deck, rails, even sails. Gibbs drank his rum on the barrel next to Jack. Elizabeth ate tiny pieces of apples as she attempted to juggle them, dropping them constantly. The waves were stiff. The wind was soft. The sails barely moved. The boards creaked constantly. Every detail was taken notice, as far as her eyes could see. "It's jus' the ole' sky needin' it's rest, 'tain't it not?" she whispered to herself for the most part. Bored with the stillness of nature, she dug in her pocket to take out a parchment with dry ink occupying the front. A total of fifteen pirates were trapped in the edges of it, Angel with her braid at the very back in the middle. She was in between to lean men with stubble, laughing. She knew them as Leo and Mat, her older brothers. Her parents were on Mat's right, and her eldest sister, Sara, on Leo's left. In the row in front of the seven stood the two female teens, Mary and Sue, both fifteen, with different shaded bandanas. Then were seven younger children, three girls, rest boys, all dressed in their finest; they were all ranging from seven to eleven, if she remembered correctly.

Her parents were _very _busy for their generation, being fifty the both of them. She always found it physically impossible, but yet again she had always heard her mother say that she was using as many tonics and such to keep her up. That's how Angel had started learning to use slight gypsy tricks, such as forcing wind in the sails. The teachings had also brought her the eight friends who she always found as part of the family. _'Tis shame they weren't visitin' when we had this made. It would be interestin' to see one's face if I tolds them I had twenty siblings. Ha!_

Sweating from head to toe, Will tightened a knot on the sail and checked for tears. He knew there was no such thing as too much care when it came to a ship. During the twelve years he had missed his loving wife, and the birth of his three children, he had learned that lesson thick and through. To tell all, the locker might have seemed still, but stubborn souls cost much more damage than any ordinary hurricane alone. Besides, he was fairly skilled with the art of knots and ropes by now. If someone bound his wrists with twisted rope, he would simply maneuver his way to untie its knot in more or less five minutes, if he concentrated hard enough. Will sighed and wiped some sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve, staring up at the skies with tired, brown eyes. It might have just been his mind, tired from fastening ropes all morning, but he swore that the sky was more stiff and clear than it should have been.

A candle flickering with a single flame illuminated the captain's quarters. James Turner stared at the pages of a leather-bound book in frustration. All the words on the pages seemed to him mere scribbles of a pen that not even a literate person could decode. It might have just been the writing itself, but never the less, James could not read a single word. He snorted through his nose and grabbed a stray parchment and a quill in an ink bottle, tapping the point against the glass. Thinking long and hard, he jotted down the letter 'J' as best as he could. If he remembered correctly, it was an upside down hook with a bar over the top. He tried to remember 'a', but even that was a head sore. With a sigh, he leaned back in the chair he had found inside and plopped the quill back into the jar of black. Beckett would have the victory when it came to literacy.

Elizabeth, or Eliza if you wish to shorten it, examined an apple that had at least three bites taken out of it. It seemed to glisten in the light, its red skin with a pink sheen. She wriggled with excitement and poked it, the skin hard. More force was applied and it began to feel a tad softer. The young girl kept applying more and more force until the skin caved slightly and let her finger touch the soft, white center. A giggle was set free from her lips as she pulled her finger back, brown eyes staring at a moist fingertip soiled with dirt. They shifted to the apple once more, a frown stretching onto Elizabeth's face when she saw a grotesque dirt smudge inside the apple, where she had so previously poked it. She gave a simple shrug before sinking her teeth through the hard skin. She chewed, delighted by the soft feel of the center, when an unfamiliar hard spot caught her attention. She pushed that under her tongue and swallowed, spitting the remaining hard spot out. It was black and round, something she assumed was a seed. Her tongue stuck out, for she never really favored seeds, and her arm flung it behind her.

Beckett stood and stretched out her arms up behind her head. All cannons were spick and span with cleanliness. She shook her head to make some sweat splatter onto the floor and ran up to the deck. "I's done, Ang-AHHHHHHH!" she screamed as she tripped over none other than her distracted sibling.

"OW!" Elizabeth cried as her head collided with the deck. "That really hurt!"

"Then don't go dazin' off like a cloud o' coots*!" Beckett scolded.

*Cloud o' coots-She is referring to day-dreaming. She's referring to 'head stuck in the clouds', hence the clouds, and coots, as in senior citizens, seeing as old people tend to lose their memories more frequently.

"Oh stop bickering, you two," Will started to climb down using the ropes. "Your both siblings and young, just learn from the mistake."

Before he knew it, there was an orange splattered on his face. "Haha! Papa's orange!" Elizabeth laughed childishly.

Angel, having noticed it, laughed as well. "That's a good look for you, Turner!" she hollered.

Will rolled his eyes and wiped his face clean with his sleeve. He leaned down to grab an apple and chucked it at the mocking pirate. Angel caught it in slim fingers and crushed it with strength Will barely knew she had. All he did in response was growl and turn back to his two daughters, quirking up a brow at the sight of both of them squishing fruit on the others head. He did not bother to stop them, seeing as they seemed to have much pleasure in making the other soaked from head to toe in parts of fruit. As confusing as it seemed, it was still nice to see his daughters smiling.

James sat in the darkness of the captain's quarters for quite some time. He could hear the giggles of his sisters, as annoying as it was. Shrill and high, like every female he had met. His mother made no exception. Still, he had a fair admiration for his kin, so he did not speak against their giggles. He shut his eyes and yawned, stretching a fair bit. Suddenly, behind the eyelids, a monstrous beast appeared before him. His tentacles were a' plenty and his skin was slimy and green. There were more than twenty or so circles on each, what James knew were for sucking the faces off of sailors and pirates alike. He shuddered, cold sweat forming on his brow and goose-bumps appearing on his arms. The hairs on the back of his neck stood as he recognized the major fear of most of the sea dogs that braved those seas.

The Kraken.

What irked James, however, was the voice that seemed to come from it. The voice was deep and echoing, despite the depth of the waters he was venturing in. _"I must kill the Turner children. I must kill the Turner children."_

"Oh how lovely," James muttered.

He stood up fast enough to knock the chair down. His hands and feet moved fast as he searched the quarters for a musket. Once he had a firm grip on one, he rushed out, the door slamming against the wall. Jack was jerked from his slumber. Gibbs choked on his rum. Angel jumped and accidently shifted the wheel two spokes to the right. Beckett and Elizabeth stopped smashing fruit on the other's head to stare. Will turned his attention to James. "Lad, what _is_ the meanin' of 'dis?" Angel demanded.

"THE KRAKEN!" James started to climb up to the crow's nest. "DAVY'S SENT THE KRAKEN! I SAW IT!"

_Oh boy…Elizabeth, what did you do?_! Will's thoughts were interrupted with a stiff silence. Beckett stood up carefully, Elizabeth clutching to her elder sister's wrist. Jack gulped and grabbed his pistol out of the holster. Gibbs followed this example. Angel furrowed her brows and slid her sword out of its seethe. A vibration was sent through the water, making the ship rock once. Another followed in suit, the ship rocking again. Elizabeth trembled as she whimpered. Beckett glared at the waters. "Do you see anything?" Will asked.

Beckett nodded. She was silent as a third vibration rocked the boat. Silence fell over. All that was left was the creaking of the ship boards. "GET AWAY FROM THE CENTER!" Beckett suddenly called out.

The rest did not hesitate to follow that demand. They ran from the center as a large tentacle beat down on the center, breaking the ship in to. James, just now on the crow's nest, was nearly flung off. All he did was cling desperately to the edge with his right hand. His left hand held the musket he planned to use to bring down the Kraken. Will and Jack were standing next to each other. Both looked a bit cross. They looked at the other pirate and flung up their arms. "HERE WE GO AGAIN!"


	13. Magic Blood: That Kraken Battle

**Part 3: Magic Blood**

_**Act 4: That Kraken Battle**_

For the first couple of minutes, they just dodged any threatening tentacles and scrambled around for weapons. Mr. Gibbs cucked a few grenades, to be sure, but the water that was dragged up with the rising tentacles doused out their fuses. With the ship in half, the use of cannons would be difficult. Well, that is not what Beckett thought. Grabbing the edge of the half she stood on, she swung down and rolled onto the cannon desk, slipping slightly until the soles of her boots stopped her. Rushing to the cannons, she unlatched them and made sure they fell off the edge. Several cracks pierced the air as they hit the Kraken.

The creature soon saw what she was up to and forced his tentacles after her. Beckett tried to evade them, but one particular tentacle slid up behind her and yanked her ankle backwards. She fell forward harshly and was soon being dragged to the mouth of the thing. Her fingertips were quickly bloodied as she dug them into the boards to stop it. All she did was cringe as she did so, not minding the cuts. She only thought of living, of saving everyone.

A roar from the Kraken soon came to her ears. The tentacle released her ankle and someone yanked her up. She turned to her father, patting her shoulder. "Back up to the deck!" he started to push her to the remaining stairs.

Angel stood on the other side of everyone, the one with the ship's wheel. Her sword was sliding to the center, so she scrambled to get it. Unfortunately, the tentacle must have seen it glisten and grabbed it before her, dragging it to the depths of the water. She cursed and smacked the deck, sitting on all fours. "I paid a kidney for that, ye' know!" she scolded.

"I DON'T THINK YELLIN' AT IT WILL HELP," Beckett stressed from the opposite side.

"IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER," Angel argued.

William rolled his eyes. "Cut it out, both of you!" he snapped. "We have a Kraken here!"

As if he felt ignored, the Kraken slammed a tentacle down where Angel was. She grunted as she rolled away, racing for the rail. Another tentacle came down in front of her, making her jump backwards and land on her bum. The impact made her fall onto her back and start slipping to the middle, where the break was. To save herself, she grabbed one of her signature daggers and dug it into the deck, heaving her body weight up. On her feet once more and the dagger out of the wood, she races to the rail again. The pirate hops onto it and grabs the rope right before a tentacle sweeps the rail out of beneath her feet.

"Angel!" Elizabeth whined as the ropes lurched forward and sent Angel flying into a barrel.

A few grumbles were heard from the pirate's mouth. She pushed herself up and rubbed her head, not minding the blood coming down her forehead more than she should have been. "Curse it…" she muttered. "How's Jamie?"

"IT'S JAMES YE' CUR!" the Turner in mention snapped viciously.

As to push Angel's buttons, Captain Jack Sparrow pointed upwards to the slanted crow's nest. Mr. Gibbs squinted at it, due to the glare of the light, to see the Kraken seemed to be preserving it, reasons unknown. "Okay," Beckett clapped her hands together. "We has to get 'im down, but how?"

"Shoot a lot?" Elizabeth suggested.

William shook his head. "That would not be very affective…"

Jack yelped and hit the deck. The others followed just in time to avoid being swept off the half-ship by a tentacle. Beckett muttered a few choice swears at the cursed cephalopod until she noticed the true condition of the ship. As this meaningless battle droned on, the ship sank further down to where the Kraken's mouth was. She jumped once the feeling of her younger sibling digging through her grenade sack became noticeable. Beckett did nothing, however, when Elizabeth lit it, held it, and threw it at a timing even James could not surpass. A burst of gunpowder and water flew up as another roar came from the Kraken, the tentacles slipping off and yanking the ship down a fair bit.

At this point, all levels under the deck were completely submerged. The adults rushed the two youths up and they all stood at the platform available, pondering the next action. To get James down, without triggering the tentacle on the post to yank out and make the poor boy catapult into the sea, they would need to think extra carefully now. One false move and he might as well be good as dead, the poor lad! All tapped their heads in thought, but it was difficult for Beckett and Elizabeth, what with all the swearing the Kraken was saying.

James kept dangling from the edge, too frightened to reach up and heave himself home. Ah, if only he knew the future…His eyes narrowed at nothing once the vulgar came to his ears. It was quite obvious this vulgar came from the Kraken itself. He felt like shooting the water above the mouth. Maybe it would shut it up? _Nah…Bullet would be rendered useless, it would, _he thought bitterly. Was there no hope? Seeing the nearly submerged other half, keen eyes spotted a tiny grenade caught behind a barrel. Angel probably dropped it in the panic. Without much of choice, he directed the musket to the round, black ball and pushed down the trigger.

A 'boom' ripped through the air as the hammer beat down on its resting spot once. The bullet seemed to cut through the air as if it was molasses, but James knew better. If his mum's terminology was correct, it was simply the 'adrenaline'. Another 'boom' ripped through the air, this one having a more heated kick to it for everyone than just himself. With a growing headache, James finally shot the water once the roar rang out.

"Ah shad' up!" he shouted. "Davy be damned, _Beckett _ain't as noisy as ye!" His leg jerked up as to evade a dagger he knew came from the mentioned. "It's true!"

"Oh poppy-cock!" Beckett scolded. "Ye' be bearin' the liar's jaw, ye' is!"

Their father had just enough of this senseless bickering. Have they completely forgotten that the Kraken was right under their boots? "Enough!" he roared. "Both of you be silent!" They did not question him.

_My tentacles sting!_ The Kraken cried miserably. _My tentacles sting! I do not want to move them any longer!_

Elizabeth blinked her innocent, tender eyes at the water that separated the halves as they sank further. As the half they stood on tilted, they skidded a bit. Although, Jack had to grab Elizabeth's shirt due to her habit of dazing like a cloud o' coots. At the moment, however, that dazing could just save their necks! "Ain't it harmed?" she whispered, more to herself than anyone.

"Hmm?" Angel rubbed her sore and burning wound.

Elizabeth turned to her elders, seeming confused. "Ain't it wounded? Can't we escape?"

James could hear her clearly. "HELLO?**!**" he called down. "Eliza, I's still here!" The tentacle stubbornly clung onto the post. He shot it and made the tentacle jerk, him losing grip of the edge and slamming onto the tentacle. "YIKES!"

Beckett raised a brow in an unimpressed manner. She bet five shillings to herself that if she was the one to land on the Kraken's tentacle, she would not have yelped like a kicked puppy. With one hand by the side of her mouth, she called out to him in the rudest tone imaginable. "Eh, James!" she addressed. "Try slidin' down the post 'stead of being problematic 'bout it!"

James kicked at the tentacle, scrambling to stand away from it. "Easy for you to say!" he bickered. "It's slimy and smells 'orrible! 'Most like blood, I'd say!"

Neither sibling had a fondness for the metallic rusting smell of blood, so she really could not counter that defense. With a sigh, she turned. "So-"-The sound of a gunshot made her scramble and trip backwards, slamming into the rail that defended the platform. The rail, weak under her weight, gave way and she fell for the water between the two halves. "LORD SAVE ME!"

"BECKETT!" William lurched forward, trying to grab his daughter's hand whilst clinging to the rail. Alas, she was far too gone to grab. "NO! BECKETT!"

"Sis!" Elizabeth and James cried.

The girl's eyes snapped shut as water engulfed her. "Thank ye', Kraken, for killing me," she muttered inside. At least that was what she believed. Instead of feeling the sharp teeth of the Kraken tearing through her flesh and bone like a bloody beast, a tentacle wrapped around her gently and lifted her up to the edge. She sputtered slightly and opened her eyes, looking back. "…Wha'?"

_Tentacles…They sting. They sting bad, miss! If ye fix them, I'll be good! I's promise! _James and Elizabeth heard this proposal, staring as well. Why, he sounded just like a sailor! "Pa!" James slid down, trying to avoid the tentacle. "He says if we fix 'im up, he'll behave for us!"

"Yes!" Elizabeth defended.

All but Angel looked at them like utter loons. "…WHAT GIN HAVE YOU BEEN 'HALING?**!**" Mr. Gibbs laughed. "The Kraken? _Nice?_!"

Beckett huffed. "It's true, lassies and lads," she shrugged. "Believe it or not, it still remains fact."

Captain Jack glanced at her and simply shot the tentacle holding her. A horrid shriek came from the Kraken as it took back its tentacle. "Odd," Jack raised a brow. "Turner, do you not see it reacting more…" His hand rolled as if trying to find the phrase.

William, for one, also noticed this. "Frail?" he wondered.

Jack's fingers snapped. "That's it! That's the word!" he proclaimed. "Now…Why so?"

Meanwhile, Beckett was making a mental note to write that Jack apparently had 'Arse' for a middle name. With a sigh, she dug her bleeding fingers into the deck and heaved up, struggling to get to the platform what with the lack of friction. "Whoever thinks we should comply with the Kraken and end this battle, say I!" she declared.

"I!" James, Angel, Elizabeth, Mr. Gibbs, and Beckett proclaimed.

Angel glanced at Jack and William. "You disagree?" she inquired.

Jack shrugged and pointed his pistol to the Kraken. "I am not helping that thing until it gives me back the time wasted in its _stomach_," Jack spat, "or decides to get rid of that horrid breath of his…"

William's eyes rolled. "I!" he held up a finger, facing Beckett.

Beck nodded once. "Then it is decided!" she announced. "We help the Kraken!...After we find a replacement vessel…" she glanced around, scratching the back of her neck. Thus ended their battle with the Kraken and began the battle with the water and the merchants.


	14. Priceless Daggers: That Goddess's Visit

**Part 4: Priceless Daggers**

_**Act 1: That Goddess's Visit**_

Not much was able to be salvaged from the wreck of the _Mystical Raider._ Hell, it was a miracle that it was still afloat! Just barely, granted, but afloat. A few barrels, some money, Beckett's drenched journal, and their belongings on their backs were about half of it. James held the other half, which consisted of Elizabeth, food crates, and the wheel Angel stubbornly refused to leave behind. It was bad enough he had to carry his little sister and five crates of fruit, but a _ship's wheel?_

Beckett sat on a barrel, strapped down by several belts that were attached to the crates once upon a time. She shook the journal and let out whining noises every time she saw the smeared ink and soggy parchment. Wherever they ended up drifting to, she would most certainly make it a priority to buy a new one. A cawing of a seagull was heard and something _unpleasant_ landed on her shoulder. William rolled off his barrel hearing a gunshot and the squawking of a bird. "Damn pests!" Beckett spat at the sky.

Angel laughed. She truly did enjoy revenge, for it was a just thing in her views. If one punches another, they will surely punch back. That is revenge, 'tis it not? Yet again, the quirk with revenge is that sometimes it would never stop. The one would punch the other once more, the other the one, and so on until one was punched to death! Well, in the worst case scenario. As if it could read her thoughts of revenge, the Kraken rammed the top of its head into the bottom of her barrel, making her fly up and crash into the water. Angel sputtered once she surfaced again, glaring at William as he laughed.

Elizabeth stared at the underwater creature. His tentacles were bleeding and scarred. She immediately felt guilty for causing the cephalopod such pain, but knew it was out of fear and self-protection. The idea of relocating herself came to mind, so she scrambled off the barrel (uneventfully tipping James and the crates with it-plus the wheel-). Elizabeth swam above the Kraken's figure and relaxed when he surfaced a little as to give her a place to sit. It was slimy, yes, but she could still sit and relax.

"Oi, Mist 'a Kraken?" Elizabeth piped up.

_Hmm?_ Kraken slowed as he made a low rumbling sound with it.

The lass's feet were swinging as she stared up at the fluffy clouds starting to gather. "Why's it that we's can understand ye'?" she asked, mumbling more like it.

_It is part of your abilities, to m' understandin',_ Kraken said. _Never really got many a-story of it._ Elizabeth could see that, due to the fact that he was a sea-monster above all things. In all honesty, she thought only slimy gits could talk to the sea creatures they claimed to be a part of.

Captain Jack drummed his fingers on the surface of his barrel, Mr. Gibbs floating next to him. Both pirates felt a tad uneasy with the tentacles pushing all the barrels forward, but they managed none of the less. It was a Hell of a lot better than just floating there, waiting for sharks n' mermaids to attack. Seeing the littlest Turner talking to the Kraken did not really help at all in their opinions. To relieve his stress, Jack grabbed a bottle of rum from his belt. Jack spit the cork out of his mouth after giving it a yank with his teeth, hitting William to make him fall off the barrel again. All the scolding from the Dutchman was ignored as the warm trickle of alcohol burned Jack's throat.

James gave a hefty sigh after gathering all the fallen things, a tentacle helping him back onto the barrel. "Okay, while we're rotting here," he grumbled, "why don't we gets something straight?"

The adults faced him. His sisters paid no attention. "I'm listenin'," Angel informed.

Arms crossed, James opened his mouth to speak. "First of all, Eliza's got magic trinkets that burn and whatnot. Care to explain that?"

Gibbs snorted and pointed to the sky, leaning in James's direction. "It's her curse, lad," he said. By his choice of tone, Gibbs wanted to keep mum. "I's heard that Elizabeth sold you's to Calypso."

"Poppy cock," Will rolled his eyes. He turned to James with a smile. "Your mother was probably trying to help Calypso."

"Indeed." Elizabeth's screams rang as a tall woman appeared before her. The coffee skin was clad in various-colored cloths and the occasional string and bead. Long braids of brown hair curtained the face painted in several places as if to mark her tribe. Her eyes were brown, a common color of iris in the world then. "Hush girl! I might be a goddess, but I still have frail ears!"

Elizabeth gave the goddess a blink or two before a curt nod. Her head leaned forward and she whispered, "Sorry miss."

Captain Jack smiled brilliantly and waved to Calypso once. "Ah, Tia Dalma," he greeted rather informally. "I suppose you've been coping well?"

This woman, 'Tia Dalma' otherwise known as Calypso, raised a brow in disbelief, one hand gripping her hip. "If you consider being a _goddess_ for who knows 'ow long a well-cope, then yes, _peachy._"

"As a matter of fact, I would," Jack answered smartly. He got a kick from a wave for that retort.

William chuckled at this. Angel and Gibbs were honestly too awestruck with the sudden appearance of the goddess to utter a word. Beckett stood and bowed, making an arse of herself by falling into the water. Tia Dalma chuckled and glanced down at the youth of the children. "You wished to know why you understand the Kraken, correct?" Elizabeth nodded whilst James managed to heave-ho himself onto the Kraken's head as well. "That be part of the powers you gained as an infant, it is," Tia informed. "Ye got several, if I be not mistaken. One would include the trinkets that settle on yer head, missy."

Beckett swam to the head as well, drawing her sword and directing it to the goddess's face. The crowd grew dead silent. "Ye's awfully shady, if ye' ask me," Beckett growled. "How do we's know this is true? Only one s'was there was Mum!" The silence seemed to swallow the world whole as she made this point.

Tia Dalma, however, merely chuckled and kneeled to the water, swirling an area with the tip of her finger. "Let's ask her, shall we?"

It was a surprise to all of them to see the Pirate King appear in the water. Her torso was bleeding and her leg seemed bent, but other than that she was the same Elizabeth Swann! _"I see you have come out of the safety of belief, Calypso,"_ Elizabeth chuckled.

Eliza beamed and reached for the water, scrambling the image a bit as she tried to see if her mum was there. "Mummy!" she cheered. "Mummy! Look Becky, it's Mummy!"

"Yeah, _Becky,_" James chuckled. His mouth was filled with the dirt of Beckett's shoe soles at this. "OW!"

"_BEHAVE you two!"_ Elizabeth groaned.

Beckett chuckled mischievously and lifted Eliza up a bit. The poor lass blinked as her elder held her up by the underarms. "Ain't you's forgettin' the last 'un?" Beckett's eyes bashed innocently.

With a sigh, Elizabeth chose to ignore that. _"Well, I suppose this is about the rain?"_ she wondered.

"WHAT RAIN?**!**" Angel and Jack snapped. They were far too ADHD for their own good, even if the diagnosis was not invented then!

William pushed Jack off to shush him. The barrel of his pistol directed itself to the other captain. Will's face, however, was to his wife. "Elizabeth," he smiled. "See you're…well…"

His wife giggled a little and rolled her eyes. _"Yes, yes, I look horrid,"_ she huffed. _"That's beside the point."_

The goddess pointed to Beckett, smiling thoughtfully. "Care to explain the event years ago?" It sounded more like a command than an actual request. In so, Elizabeth Swann explained the rain, the goddess, and the common-sense-factor of not threatening a goddess of water with mere metal whilst _on_ the water itself, or any time for that matter. "And there ye's have it," Tia Dalma grinned. "Now, I did not jus' come for 'dis accusation."

"Shocking," Gibbs muttered a little. Jack yanked him down as to shush him, as Will had done to him. No sooner was Will submerged in a similar manner.

For they weighed more than water, the ripples spread through the surface. This time these ripples made the vision of Elizabeth Swann dissipate. Checking to make sure the vision was truly gone, James faced Tia Dalma sternly. "Okay, what else would you like to say?" he snapped rather unpleasantly.

She chuckled twice before crossing her arms over her chest, tapping one finger on an elbow crook. "You three are special, yet not everyone thinks of you as that. Some a nuisance. Some a golden opportunity for shillin's. D'at statement there should give you some warnings on what is to come! Beware, Turners! For Davy Jones is alive and lookin' to spill yer blood, he is!"

"Got that message," Beckett snorted. "Anythin' _new_ you'd like to share?"

Angel chucked the floating wheel at her head. "Hush lass! This be a goddess you's addressin'!" she hissed. Even with the harsh tone, the hint of amusement failed to hide itself.

Tia Dalma's grin widened further and her fingertips patted the brown-head of the youth. "New, you say?" Tia Dalma mused. "Well, I would say that a few sharks do not find your company worth-while." With that, she vanished into a large wave that soaked all passengers on the _U.S.S Kraken._

"What's she mean by that?" Jack demanded. Will tapped his shoulder rapidly. "Oh wha-"-Jack cut himself off with a scream of horror as dorsal fins were spotted on the horizon. He swam to the Kraken, as did the rest. "Oi, this has been a long 'nough day, don't need to be any longer!"


End file.
